


Aliens really are out to get you aren't they?

by Some_sort_of_trash



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baking, But he's also super sweet, Character Study, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Cute Peter Parker, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Irondad, Kid Fic, Kid Tony Stark, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is more observant than we give him credit for, Peter and tony are both oblivious self-deprecating dorks but we love them anyway, Peter is a dork, Peter is literally the best, Precious Peter Parker, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Self-Esteem Issues, Sickfic, Tags May Change, That moment when you want a fic so bad you actually write it, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is trying his best, Tony's bots love him, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_sort_of_trash/pseuds/Some_sort_of_trash
Summary: Neither Peter Parker nor Tony Stark are known for having the best of luck. To normal people, an alien targeting specifically one person is enough to make you wonder if maybe you have done something to piss off several galaxies. Peter? He's just glad that at least this turn of events is cute. Weirder things have happened.ORTony is temporarily turned into a toddler for a glorious 48 hours and Peter takes it upon himself to take care of him.





	1. So I guess this is happening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkrstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/gifts).



Aliens, for all their nonsense, tended to be an inconvenience rather than a huge threat when they showed themselves to Peter. Sure, there were moments when things like Vulture would happen and it would be a big deal; and really experiences like that should warrant an instant write off to any sane person with self preservation. The description of normal had never quite fit with Peter though, even before the bite. 

Besides, Thor was also an alien and he was super awesome. Peter wasn’t going to start questioning it now. 

They seemed to be out to get Tony however, and as such it was getting harder to not want to second guess his logic as he dragged an unresponsive Iron Man suit through New York. The attacker (some sort of funky alien, wizard hybrid?) had come, decided he was in the wrong place and just… left. Which, in and of itself, Peter could kind of almost get. He made stupid mistakes like half the time he tried to do the right thing.The problem had been when Tony made a snarky comment to it trying to distract it from Peter and the civilians. He had managed to dodge several spells, but all it ever really takes is one good enough hit. 

The alien teleported out shortly after, leaving Peter to leap and catch Tony before the suit could hit the ground. The suit itself was locking down and non operational, which wasn't supposed to happen, but neither were alien wizards really. 

“Mr. Stark, you okay?” He had asked, swinging the two of them onto a nearby roof. Radio silence from him was never a good thing. In all honesty, Tony was the only person Peter knew who might be capable of talking more than he was. “Earth to Mr. Stark? FRI, feel free to chime in here too.”

“The suit has shut down due to primitive internal operations, however it should be able to be restarted at the Tower. Friday appreciates your concern, but she says you may want to see this one for yourself.” Karen stated, her voice unusually curious. 

“Primitive internal operations? What does that mean? You talk to Friday?” Peter asked, letting his nervous rambling combat the sinking feeling of the inevitable. He carefully webbed the suit so that it was attached to the tops of his feet and around his neck, hoping desperately that he would be able to swing with only one arm to use. 

“It seems that the spell used makes the victim revert back to the original state it was created to be, or very close to that range. The mechanisms of the suit have begun to separate and return to raw materials, starting with the internal functions and working their way outwards. However, the armors defense systems left the core units unharmed in this process.” Karen sounded almost concerned, although whether it was due to the spell or Peter’s web slinging he wasn’t sure. 

“What does that mean for Mr. Stark then?”

“Friday’s monitors have been among the first of the sensors to disappear. Since the suit is designed to not be monitorable to outsiders, all of the monitoring I can do is external at the moment. Any data I am receiving is from Friday. We cannot tell what is happening with Mr. Stark at the moment. I am sorry, Peter.”

Peter hummed, landing momentarily on a roof. The thought of Tony being hurt was causing his heart rate to elevate. He wanted to freeze, but he could see the tower from here. He pushed himself harder, letting his panic turn into adrenaline. “You’re doing great Karen. I appreciate your help. And hey, at least Friday is working.” He breathed and it sounded close to normal, but with each passing moment he felt even more anxious. Instead, he tried to focus on the sounds the suit was making. He could hear a heartbeat and soft breathing if he tried hard enough.  “Tell Friday I appreciate her help too.”

Karen hummed in reply, an action she had picked up from Peter. 

His feet landed hard on the metalic rooftop of the avengers tower moments later, and his knees buckled slightly. He paid it no mind however as he scampered into the building. The voice of Friday was almost painfully relieving. 

“I can’t regain access to the suit, but you have the capability to open it. Would you like me to walk you through the instructions?”

Peter ripped off his mask and dissolved the webs used to keep the Iron Man suit stable during the pseudo flight. He lowered it to the ground with painstaking carefulness. “Yes please.”

It was almost laughably simple. There were small indentations in the joints of the armors knees and the elbows that allowed the arms and legs to be opened when pressed in the right intervals. With those taken, the chest and head indentations were exposed and removable in the same way. The troubling thing was that the arms of the suit didn’t hold Tony’s arms, and the legs didn’t hold his legs. At this point his breathing was too fast and shallow to do him much good. 

“Friday? Where’s Tony? Why isn’t he in the suit?” He could hear the heartbeat stronger now, but there was nothing there. 

“Take off the chest plate, Peter.”

Never one to disobey direct orders unless he had a better plan, Peter pressed the indentations in what felt like the order to a knock off Konami code with palpable dread.

“What the hell-”

Small was the first word that came to mind. Unbelievably small. Tony Stark was never a tall man to begin with, but this was different. There was a toddler resting on the emergency padding of the suit, feet planted on the closed over leg holes. He was practically weightless as Peter lifted him into his arms, but he sunk into them, almost seeming relieved.“This is Mr. Stark?” Peter wasn't sure whether or not he meant that as a question or a statement. 

“Do you know any other people with arc reactor scars in their chest?” Friday quipped back, sounding far too much like her maker. Peter didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at the fact.

“Can you do any scans now that he’s out of the suit? I know you watch the fights too, is there any way to determine how long this will last or how to return him to normal?”

“I’ll review the footage I’ve stored, it’ll take a few minutes. As for the scans, the vitals have come back normal for his physical age of about one and a half, with the exception of an accelerated heart rate due to stress and fatigue. His mental capacities also seem to be mostly in check, but like his body has regressed to not be able to keep up, parts of his brain seem strategically inhibited.”

Peter dropped to his knees and pushed back the toddlers hair lightly. “So a baby with the potential to be adult Tony Stark at any given moment.” At the sound of his name, Tony sleepily blinked at Peter before closing his eyes and dozing again. The oversized Guns and Roses t-shirt hung off him loosely, like a swaddle that had been kicked off. Peter couldn’t help his smile. 

“Exactly. Would you like me to order supplies for toddler care or call anyone?” Friday asked, seeming to be lost in thought.

“If you could order some supplies that would be amazing. I can call later though. Thank you Friday, you’re a lifesaver.” 

Friday sounded pleased. “You’re always welcome, Peter. I ordered all basic living essentials with the best ratings and had them expedited here, they should be arriving within the hour.” 

“Awesome,” He found himself standing up and moving to the elevator without really thinking about it. “Now to figure out what to do with you.” He began to play with Tony’s hair absentmindedly, trying to take everything in. His boss/mentor/father-figure was now a baby. It would completely throw off most people. It was strange and unsettling and not even the weirdest thing to ever happen to him. On the contrary, of all the alien inconveniences, this one was definitely the cutest.

“Has his heart rate lowered yet?”

Her voice was quieter than it normally was. Peter assumed it was out of consideration for Tony, which was adorable. God he loved the bots. “It's lower because he's sleeping, but I anticipate that when he wakes up he won't be happy.” 

The elevator dinged and he exited on his floor. “When was the last time he's slept?”

“Approximately three days without any substantial rest.” He kind of wanted to roll his eyes, but he'd be lying if he said he got much more than a couple hours a night during the school week.

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that won't we?” Peter replied, turning in a gentle circle to take everything in. Most of the stuff in the tower had been relocated to the compound, but his floor was still fully outfitted as one of the only New York based heroes left. Tony had temporarily taken the place off of the market for that purpose alone, arguing that he couldn't exactly have Peter looking up Youtube videos on how to fix suit problems and injuries after every patrol. He'd been extremely flattered, but overwhelmed. It was definitely handy now though. 

Tony’s head started to roll to the side, which he guessed was an easy enough problem to fix, but the reality that in this scenario he wouldn’t have the solution to every problem hit him like a ton of bricks. He moved Tony’s head to rest on his shoulder and tried to walk as smoothly as possible to his bag. He figured that it was probably lucky that he was at the tower when the alien arrived, otherwise he’d probably have to buy another backpack. Even though May knew he was Spider-Man, she still wasn’t happy about the backpacks. Peter couldn’t really blame her. 

He sat on the floor, using one arm to support Tony and one arm to riffle through his bag and thanking the universe for its small mercies. He pulled out his phone and refrained from wincing at the dried particles of webbing left on it from the backpack. He debated briefly on who to call. 

If he was in Tony’s current position, he would probably want as few people to know as possible, especially not Tony. Not that he didn’t trust him; he did. He just felt that being reduced to helpless on the field and in his mind was not the reputation he needed when he was trying so hard to impress the man. But Tony wasn’t trying to impress Peter, there was really no need to when he already idolized him. 

He probably wouldn’t want Peter to be experiencing this in the first place, but he was already here. So that cat was out of the bag. He tried to think if he would want May to know. She would probably be the least awkward one about the situation because she’d already lived through it. On the other hand, she already worried about him too much. He was too good of a kid to force her to bend to his needs all of the time. 

Pepper could be an option for Tony. The only problem was that she was in Japan for a business meeting. The only reason Tony wasn’t was because he managed to convince her  that he was sure something would happen that week. (“It’s Japan Pep, nothing happens in Japan. Any time anything bad happens it’s in New York.”) Besides, if he had a significant other, this wouldn’t be something he’d want them to know about. So Pepper was on the reserves list. He’d leave it up to Tony. 

Happy was the next candidate for help, but he was also with Pepper. Tony would never want him to leave Pepper if she needed Happy around. Aside from that, Peter likened that situation to telling MJ. Not happening, a horrible decision on all fronts, he would never live it down. Not to mention, would he even pick up the phone if he called? It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in him coming through for Mr. Stark, because he was pretty sure Happy was Tony’s closest friend other than Rhodey and he would drop anything for him. He just didn’t think he’d necessarily be top choice for this one. 

Actually, Maybe Rhodey wouldn’t be so bad? That would be his equivalent to Ned. If he was put into that occasion, Ned would undoubtedly be there for him. There was a mutual understanding there that they would trust each other if a scenario as stupid as this ever occurred to either of them. Only, Ned already had his own problems and family to worry about, as would Rhodey. War Machine hardly ever dropped by the compound from what he’d gathered. Even if the man would be happy to help, he didn’t have his number.

Peter was pulled out of his train of thought when Tony lazily gripped his shirt and showed no signs of letting go. He could handle this, and if he couldn’t he would have May. He could always tell her that it was Rhodey’s nephew he had been put in charge of babysitting while Iron Man and War Machine went on a mission. He wasn’t the best at lying, and he didn’t like doing it, but if it was for Mr. Stark he would do just about anything. 

He would have to wait until May was off work first. 

“Peter,” Friday said softly, and he looked up at the ceiling in reflex. “The deliveries have arrived, they’ve been sent up the elevator.” That seemed like risky business to him, but who was he to question? As if sensing this, Friday continued. “I have scanned the packages over for potential threats, they are safe. Boss’s orders also have a special embedded code sent with them so that he doesn’t have to sign off on every order.” 

“I guess that makes sense?”

“In addition, the spell should wear off in the next 48 hours. It's not intended to be long term, just to buy time.” Peter startled, and Tony whimpered so Peter tried to settle back into a steady heart rate. When he heard his sigh of what he hoped was content, he assumed he was doing it right. 

“Buy time for what?”

“That much was unclear.” Friday answered. 

That was concerning. The more Peter thought about it, the less sure he was that the wizard came for no reason. His Spider sense wasn’t going off any more than it normally did, so whatever was coming it was too far off to predict. He supposed though that in it’s own way that was relieving, there was the chance he wouldn’t have to face off against the guy solo. 

“So I just gotta take care of him ‘till then?” Peter glanced down and was met with brown spiked-up locks to his chin. “Is there anything I should know in that case? Does he have any allergies or preferences I should keep in mind?”

Fridays voice sounded almost doting. “As far as allergies go, grass and pollen are the only two we have on file, but I wouldn’t put it past him to have others. Allergies can change when you get older though, so I’m not sure that its consistent across his ages.” Friday went quiet for a moment, contemplative before she spoke again. “His childhood was not the easiest. I don’t know how much of that will come into effect here, but I thought you should know that in case that is an issue.”

Peter frowned, running a hand back through Tony’s hair. “Noted. Not liked, but noted.” 

A few minutes later found Peter rummaging through cardboard boxes on the floor haphazardly. He didn’t want to be messy, but he figured he could clean later. He got through the basics before he stumbled onto his favorite thing. 

“Friday…” Peter breathed, “Why didn’t you tell me that you ordered this?”  Peter held up a tiny spiderman onesie. He hadn't even heard that they had started making merch of him.  Why hadn’t he been informed of this before now? Although, this was admittedly a pretty good way to find out.

“I thought you would enjoy it,” Friday said simply, sounding almost like she was laughing.

“I love it, this is the best thing I've ever seen.” Peter laughed, the overwhelming type that makes you shake and want to cover your face. “Oh my God, does this mean I have permission to put this on him?”

“My permission was never needed, but if you’re seeking it you may have it.”

“Friday, I love you” Peter grinned, finally gaining his control back. He had a feeling if the AI had a face she’d be smirking. 

So he may not have the best concept of how to take care of babies, but this? This was right up his alley.

* * *

 

About an hour and a grumpy spider-clad baby later, Peter was really considering calling May, work schedule be damned. It was going downhill stunningly quickly. Changing Tony out of the oversized t-shirt and into a diaper and the onesie had been the first time he’s had to change a baby. It wouldn’t have been so difficult if he had chosen a better time to wake up. He had surprisingly strong lungs and was just as vocal as adult Tony was. He had discovered that with the enhanced hearing, baby wails were very unpleasant and if this was any indication Tony wasn’t an easy baby. He would just have to learn to live with that. 

It was worth it though, because the onesie absolutely continued to be his favorite. 

“Hungry Mr. Stark? It’s probably been a while since you’ve eaten.” It felt kind of off to call him Mr. Stark when he was like this, but he didn’t want to call him Tony if he wasn’t cool with it. The toddler didn't seem to care about the formalities though and fixed Peter with an unamused stare.  Peter sighed and almost wished he could put his arms up in surrender. “Chill out, this won’t last forever and I’ll keep you safe until it's over.” He didn’t know how much of this was just toddler attitude and how much was adult Tony, but he didn’t want to make this more uncomfortable for him. This scenario would suck for were anyone, but Mr. Stark deserved to have as nice of an experience possible, even if the circumstances sucked. “I got you kiddo.”

Tony seemed to consider this, even if it was with a pout. Hesitantly, he extended his arms to pull himself up against Peter’s hoodie. He took that as a good sign and grinned in relief, bouncing playfully on the balls of his feet. “You hungry?” 

“Yeah,” He reached for Peter’s hair in fascination. “Foo’?”

“My hair isn’t food, but I can get you some. You’re just lucky that I can almost kind of cook.” Peter cocked his head to the side slightly. “Sometimes. Maybe we’ll get lucky?” The snickers from his shoulder were enough to make him smirk playfully. “Hey, you don’t have to agree with me so readily." All he was met with was a tongue stuck out of a tiny mouth.  “Ohoho, so that's how it is then? Just for that,” Peter turned on his heel and began to jog to the kitchen, swerving down the hallway and making repulsor noises. The giggles and shrieks so were worth it.

Come whatever may, Peter had a feeling he'd enjoy this.


	2. Same old you?

“Alright Mr. Stark, let's see what you have in the kitchen,” Peter panted, finally coming to a stop. The bite may have messed a lot of things up, but the stamina was certainly a blessing. He never would have been able to do that before. As he walked to the cabinets, he spared a glance at Tony, who was looking at him like he’d never been so simultaneously terrified and excited in his life.  Peter felt a swell of pride. He always did when he was able to make people happy. 

He realized rather quickly though that he had no clue what toddlers could eat. Absentmindedly he turned to Tony and began to scan through the cabinets. “Do you have teeth right now?” In response, Tony opened his mouth to show Peter, drooling slightly. As it turned out, several teeth had begun to grow. “Huh, well that’s good to know.” 

He opened a cupboard and found a few haphazard boxes of pasta. “Huh. I would have figured that you make pasta from scratch? Then again I’ve never seen you cook either, sooo… Or is it because we’re on my floor and you know I won’t take the time to make actual pasta?” He took one of the boxes out and placed it on the counter before beginning his search for a pot and a colander. There was always something weird about cooking in someone else’s house that he could never quite pin down, but this was a tower, not a house, and hey, his life was weirder than just cooking in an unfamiliar place. He glanced down towards Mr. Stark as if that could solve the mystery, only to find him sucking on his shirt that read “Past, Present, and Future walked into a bar. It was in tense.” (MJ’s contribution to his ever growing pun shirt collection.) 

“Hey now,” Peter crooned, “none of that.” He pulled Tony’s head back gently and received a blank look in return. “I know you’re hungry, but my shirt isn’t food either.” Ah. A pot, finally. He filled it with water and set it on the stove, which had a ridiculous number of settings for someone who didn’t even use the kitchen. He also poured in the pasta because he had no patience to wait for the water to boil and he knew it would turn out fine anyway. That taken care of, Peter began to make his way back into the room he came from. “Do you want something you can suck on?” 

He was moderately sure Tony wasn’t paying attention at the moment, or at least if he was it wasn’t the adult side, because instead of responding he started to look around at everything like he was seeing it for the first time. So Peter let him be, finding what he was looking for in the pile of stuff on the floor. He unpackaged one, and stuck the pacifier out in offering. The look Tony gave him almost made him redact the offer, but he didn’t and Tony reluctantly took it after looking at Peter, so he made sure to shoot Tony an approving smile. He took it as a success when Tony perked up.

The pause before taking it didn’t sit quite right with Peter though. He was wondering why it took him so long to latch on the whole walk back into the kitchen. Did he think Peter would make fun of him, or did he think it was a bad thing to use one, or did he just take it to appease Peter? How much of that hesitation was adult Tony and how much of that was what Fri had called a bad childhood?

The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t decide if there was a good answer, but he thought that being baby Tony’s reaction would be worse. Mr. Stark never really said much about his childhood, but Peter had a feeling by the end of this he’d either have a much clearer picture or be more confused than ever. If he already thought one and a half was too old to have a pacifier, then Peter really wanted to talk to Howard and Maria and find out what they were thinking. 

“You know I love you, right?” Peter said, and it was like a record scratch freeze frame, ‘so you’re probably wondering how I got here.’ moment. Adult Mr. Stark would block him out or make some sort of sarcastic remark and Peter would be blushing furiously and then they wouldn’t speak for days, because neither of them were experts at emotions. But damn it, it was true and the ball was rolling and he wasn’t going to stop now because Peter and words when nervous were an unstoppable force. “Like, I don’t stick around cause you build me things or buy me things. I’m not trying to use you, like at all.” 

Mr. Stark was staring. Frick.

“And I mean like, that stuff is cool and all, but I just like having you around? So I’m not going to make fun of you right now for wanting a pacifier or something like that, cause this situation is weird and all, but like wanting something that’s considered childish isn’t a bad thing. So you don’t have to like, search for permission with me if that’s what you’re doing.” Peter turned to look at Tony and drew Tony’s face up to look at his.  “Cause I care about you, and I want you to be happy. Okay?” That was more ‘likes’ in one sitting than Peter could remember using in a long time. 

He waited, for a moment, for the awkward silence to ensue or some sort of biting sarcastic remark for him to laugh off, but it didn’t come.

Instead he got a toddler burying himself into the his neck and wrapping his arms as far around him as he could get them. “‘Oveyou’oo” Tony said, and the words were spoken quickly and muffled, but impossibly sincere and sure for someone so young. “‘Ove you ‘o much!”

Peter knew he wouldn’t hear it from Tony in a long time, if ever again, but it made him feel warm to know for sure that he wasn’t just some annoying kid to Mr. Stark. That he actually enjoyed having him around. That someone other than May loved him. The reassurance meant more to him than he knew Tony would ever realise. 

The pasta was a bit overdone by the time Peter remembered he was cooking, and he just added butter and parmesan and called it a day rather than bothering with an actual sauce, but neither of them seemed to mind. 

And if Peter was smiling the whole meal, well, his speed healing would make sure his cheeks wouldn’t hurt for too long after.

* * *

 

After Peter ate and cleaned, which included Tony (He knew babies were messy eaters, but this is ridiculous), they found themselves migrating into the lab, promising Friday they’d be careful.

Fri may have been the most talkative of the resident robots, but where Dum-E and U lack English they made up for it with personality. One could argue too much, in fact. 

From the first day he had stepped in the lab, Peter could tell how much Tony cared for his bots. He may have roasted them and pushed them around a little, but there was the fond glint in his eyes that he knew Tony used on him when he wasn’t looking. The way Tony showed affection was learned through trial and error and some self doubt, but Peter proved to be good at reading people. 

Either that or most people in Tony’s life were pretty dense, because while he tried to be aloof about it, once he held any sort of care for you he was about as obvious as a flashing neon billboard that read “This one! This is the one! I like this one!” 

He bought those people things, or if he didn’t trust the manufactures, he made them himself. (One day Peter had come home from school to find his room totally refurbished. It had been a long, stuttering conversation before he was convinced to accept it. After the spider suit, he would say it’s the coolest thing he’d ever received, if the hardest to convince himself he deserved. He would never not be grateful for it though.) Tony would find out what they liked and bring those things up as if randomly in conversation. (There had been a point where Tony had asked him about K-Pop and Alternative Rock, and Peter was so surprised he just stared for fifteen seconds. The slow-growing, knowing smile on his face when he caught on was enough to prompt Tony to deflect and try to reroute the conversation. The debate on who has the better music taste rages on to this day.) The most concerning one though was that he became super worried about the people he cared about. It was becoming rare to have a week where his suit wouldn’t be undergoing some sort of upgrade, and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

As far as Peter knew though, he was a special case. He assumed it was because he was young, or because with the avengers going off grid, Mr. Stark didn’t have as many people to focus on. Now though, as he watched as Dum-E try to juggle and U play reconnaissance while Tony stared at them in fascination, he was beginning to realize Mr. Stark cared about him more than he knew before this had happened.

Suddenly, Tony reached up to pat his face and pointed at his creations.“‘ook!” He grinned happily, but almost looked like he was searching for approval again. Peter went along with it and smiled back, placing his head on top of Tony’s. 

“They’re really amazing huh?” Dum-E made a beeping noise and dropped the wrenches he was juggling, causing U to make an affronted beep. “Good job guys, you’re really getting better at that.” He almost wished he was lying. The first time Dum-E had tried to juggle in an attempt to befriend Peter he speared a screwdriver through the wall. Mr. Stark had banished him from ever going near the screwdrivers from that point forward. Although U had ended up punching a hole in the wall trying to dig it out, so he didn’t fare much better. Both of them had ended up befriending Peter anyway. 

Now though, Tony stuck his hand out and received an excited high five from the bot. Peter’s heart twisted a little: Mr. Stark really didn’t smile enough. Rhodey had told him that since he had come around he was happier, but Peter really didn’t feel like he had done anything. 

A well-placed foot on his stomach had him wheezing for a moment, but he moved his arms up to keep Tony from falling. It didn’t stop him from flopping dramatically onto his back though.

“Oof, you have killed me. Wounded me dead with small feet. Truly, a more lethal weapon doesn’t exist. Goodbye, cruel world, I will miss you.”

“Bye bye Pe’er,” Tony giggled, twisting slightly before crashing into his chest. Peter moaned.

“Betrayal…” He laid there for a minute before peaking an eye open. Tony had taken to laying on his chest as he waited for him to return to the living, occasionally poking his stomach. As he saw Dum-E roll off to the defibrillators and U grab the fire extinguisher, he decided that now would probably be in his best interest. He sprung up suddenly, earning a squeal of indignation from Tony. “Holy Christmas Miracles Batman, I’m alive!” 

Tony nodded, smiling as if to say “See, you’re fine, and also its nowhere near Christmas you dork.” Instead though, he just asked “Ba’man?” 

Peter tilted his head the the side, looking for all his worth like a confused puppy. “You don’t know who Batman is?” Tony shook his head and grabbed Peter’s jacket, so Peter used it as an excuse to put his index fingers to his head. He dropped his voice as low as he could, which still wasn’t a lot and sounded kinda ridiculous. “I am the hero Gotham deserves. I am the night. I am Batman.” He dropped his fingers and put his arms back around Tony as the toddler continued to scrutinize his impression. “He’s got like, movies and comics and stuff? He’s a vigilante like me. So, kinda like a superhero, but you don’t really have permission to do it.”

Tony looked away. “Fave’rid?” 

Peter blinked. “My favorite superhero?” Tony looked down, like the floor was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Peter’s smile melted into something ridiculously soft and he gently pushed Tony’s chin up to meet his eyes. “There’s a lot of really cool heroes out there, Mr. Stark, but you’ll always be my favorite.”

Tony stared up at him for a moment with watery eyes before planting himself face first into Peter’s hoodie. Peter let out a soft- and entirely manly,  _ thank you _ \- squeak and he went to pull Tony’s head to the side so he could breathe. “Hey now, no asphyxiating. We save that for Mondays when its a school week.” 

He was crying. Peter was completely at a loss as to why that statement would make him cry. He thought it would’ve been obvious. So instead, he buried his face into Tony’s hair and held him close. 

Peter wouldn’t admit it to Tony, but it was nice to be able to hold him for once, even if the circumstances were so far from normal. Mr. Stark as an adult indulged him and his hugs however far between, but Peter suspected he still didn’t really enjoy them. It was Peter’s prefered method of showing affection and grounding himself though, so he limited it to brushing shoulders or pats on the back the majority of the time. But if Tony was a flashing billboard sign once you knew his tells, Peter was a Jehovah's witness that was willing to break and enter into your home to give you his pamphlet.

So yeah, Peter was going to make the most of it while Tony seemed to be fine with being held. It was the least he could do to try to drive it through his thick skull that people did actually care about him, even if he didn’t want to accept that.

* * *

 

Peter, as it turned out, might have been wrong about Tony not enjoying his hugs. They’d packed up right about six-thirty, because as much as Peter was figuring things out, he knew he needed someone more experienced. As he started his walk back to his apartment in Queens Tony had yet to budge, even though Peter could tell he was nodding off. He was taking in everything he could from his position peeking out from Peters shoulder, scanning faces with a careful amount of scrutiny. At first Peter had just thought he was being shy, which didn’t make a ton of sense to him, but he wasn’t going to make a big deal about it. Then he realized what it really was.

Mr. Stark was trying to protect him.

Which, okay, of course he would. That was totally in his nature. Peter could have laughed at the irony of it all though, cause right now Mr. Stark was the last thing that he would think of as intimidating. As an adult, the man was scary for sure. People didn’t want to mess with Iron Man, and the ones who did were idiots.

This toddler though? Big curious brown eyes and fluffy cheeks and messy hair? That was a face that people would want to pinch the cheeks of, not back away in respect. 

The revelation brought Peter’s arms tighter around Tony, senses working harder to pick up danger. He’d always had a strong protective streak, especially for people he loved and especially after what had happened with Ben and his parents. He had no plans of letting anyone hurt the people he cared about, and he wouldn’t be breaking that promise now. 

He really didn’t want Tony to worry though. So, he started talking about anything that came to mind. School and the decathlon team, Ned, the new bodega that had opened that people were claiming could make a better sandwich than Delmar’s, all of it. Slowly it began working, and Tony moved so that he could look at Peter, his eyes lighting and making cries of protest in all the right spots, content to listen in others. Peter couldn’t remember the last time it felt like Tony was this interested in the mundane parts in his life, but that could have been because when he was around Mr. Stark Peter let him do the most talking, content to learn from the master unless Tony wanted otherwise. Besides, Peter knew what he told Happy was relayed to Mr. Stark anyway. 

They were about 2 blocks away from his apartment when a old lady stopped them. “Oh my goodness!” She cried, rushing up to meet the two. Tony winced back slightly and puffed up his chest, to make himself look bigger Peter assumed. Which was adorable, but not nearly as intimidating as the toddler was probably hoping it would be. “Who’s a cute little baby? You are, yes you are!” She reached out her hand and pinched his cheek, in the way that only little old women can really pull off. Peter had to refrain from cringing, so if the mindset of adult Tony was present in the younger form Peter really hoped it was currently vacationing in the bahamas, because this would  _ really  _ suck. “And what a handsome young man! Praytell, is this your son?”

Peter didn’t have the time to unpack all of that. His mouth hung open stupidly for a moment. According to most people, he didn’t even look like he was old enough to be doing drivers training, let alone have a kid. “No ma'am I’m, uh, babysitting,” he said lamely “For my step dad.”

“ _ Step dad?”  _ Peter thought, confused and done with himself for the rest of the year. He would have slapped himself had his hands been free, but the blood seemed to all be rushing to his face anyway so it was probably for the best. Tony for his part had taken to curling into Peter’s torso, making noises like he was about to cry. The Gen Z kid in him was internally going “Ah yes, big mood.”

“Aha, you must be very responsible then! What are your names darling?”

Peter absentmindedly moved his hand to Tony’s back and began to rub it soothingly, trying to end the encounter soon so he could check on the poor kid. “Oh, I’m Peter,” He said, “And the little guy is Anthony.” 

There was no way that this lady could tell that the cherub was actually the Tony Stark, but Peter wasn’t going to take chances. Less people would associate Anthony with Tony than his nickname. 

“Oh Anthony like Tony?” Or you know, this woman could be psychic or something. He felt like his senses should be making him leave, but they were still the everpresent slight buzz in the back of his mind, nothing about this lady was making his senses go nuts. But clearly Tony didn’t like this, so neither did he. “Who knows angel, maybe your little brother will grow up to be the next great inventor like Tony Stark. He’s certainly going to grow into quite the handsome man if these years are any indication, and with a role model like you I’m sure he’ll turn out amazingly.” She reaches out a hand to ruffle Tony’s hair, but Peter pulling him closer makes her think better of it. She smiles anyway.

“If his outfit is any indication though, I’m guessing he’d rather be Spiderman than Iron Man?” She continues, not seeming to think Tony’s accumulating fussing was a big deal. “Can’t go wrong there, he found my grandchild the other week when we lost her walking back from the park and returned her to my husband. Such a sweet, thoughtful man.” Peter would smile under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal circumstances. He turns to keep walking.

“It was nice to meet you ma’am, but we need to be getting back home.”

“Oh of course! I didn’t mean to keep you, my apologies. Goodbye Peter,” She crouches to be level with Tony, and her voice changes into something he thinks seasoned grandparents must practice constantly, what with all the down time they get from being retired. “Bye-bye little one! Be a good boy for your big brother okay?”

She winks before taking off the direction she was headed towards, and he wants to shudder at how much second hand embarrassment he just felt on Tony’s behalf, but he continues onward knowing it won’t help anything. As soon as he knows he’s walked away far enough for her to be out of earshot and the road ahead looks clear of people, he awkwardly adjusts the large diaper bag slung over his shoulder and pushes the little portion of spiky bangs that are visible to him back. “You can come out now if you want. That lady is gone.”

He slowly untangles himself from Peter, whining and misty eyed. Peter wants to panic, but he knows he can’t. Instead he begins to walk a little faster. “I know, I know, that was pretty bad. If it’s any consolation, I can ask May to drive us back to the tower when you’re going to change back so we don’t have to walk there again.” 

He’s resigned to it by the time Tony starts to wail, hiccuping like he’s trying really hard not to. “It’s okay to cry,” Peter says, trying really hard to be gentle and not make this worse than it needs to be. He needs May, she would know what to do to comfort a crying baby. “Chemically speaking,” he chatters on anyway, because even though they’re reaching the door of the apartment building he still has to get up the elevator and into their living situation. “Tears release a hormone in the brain that helps you feel better afterward. So like, crying is science.” The elevator dings, so he gets out and finishes his migration to the apartment. “There was an experiment done where they looked at dried tears under a microscope and discovered that depending on why someone was crying their tears had a different shape, so- Aunt May, what do I do? How do I help him???”

She’s looking at him like he’s grown two heads, but she’s still his favorite because she gets up from the couch and her book and begins to rock Tony anyway, giving Peter the look that clearly read “Dude, why do you have a screaming child with you?” He’s not sure why there’s a specific face for that, but it’s kinda righteously terrifying. Clearly though, she decides to take care of Tony first and ask questions as to the why when they can properly hear each other.

As Tony begins to calm slightly, May turns to Peter. “What was the last thing that happened before they started crying? And also, gonna need a name kiddo.”

“Ah, we were walking back from Stark towers and we walked past a lady that kinda cooed at him and pinched his cheeks. He’s apparently not big on being touched by strangers. His name is Anthony, Colonel Rhode’s nephew.” She raised a skeptical eyebrow. It didn’t sound convincing to him either, but he knew May wasn’t going to push it too hard, hopefully. “He stopped by the tower while he was babysitting, and then Tony and him got called in for a really important mission, so they left him with me? It’s not like I could have said no. And then I brought him here because I knew I couldn’t do this by myself, and you’re like the resident expert in child care. So, and I beg of you, please help me.”

May sighed, but her expression turned fond as she looked from Peter to Tony. “Are you sure that’s the only reason he’s crying? How long has it been since he’s eaten, or since you’ve changed him, or since he’s slept?”

Peter could have sighed in relief for an hour. Instead, he put his mind to figuring out the answer to her question. “I fed him about two and a half hours ago, it’s been about three since I changed him, and he slept right before that. But according to Rhodey he doesn’t sleep as much as people his age are supposed to.” He gave Mr. Stark a deadpan look for a moment before turning his attention back to May.

“Okay,” She paused for a moment thinking, but not stopping the rocking motion. “Does he have any medical problems then? How well does he know you? He could be homesick or missing his family.” 

Peter smiled softly, and he took Tony back from May. Immediately, Tony latched onto his jacket. “He has a few, but nothing that’s medicated, or if they are the meds weren’t left with me. And uh, I’d say we’ve gotten pretty tight. This isn’t my first time meeting him technically.” She didn’t know how true that was, but he had a feeling she would find out, despite Peter not wanting her to. She was good like that.

“How long will it be before they get back?” She asked, noticing that the toddler wasn’t crying anymore and instead was playing with the strings of Peter’s hoodie, so she watched carefully to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself.

“They said it wouldn’t take longer than two days.” 

Her lips tugged upward in the way that was exasperated but also proud, the same one she used whenever she found out Peter had stepped into the deep end and was quickly learning to swim. “Okay Pete, but you’re on diaper duty. Changing yours when you were this age was more than enough to last a lifetime.” 

Peter could feel his blush, but he smiled at her anyway. “Thank you so much Aunt May! And for the low, low price of never bringing up my baby self again, I will do it.”

The smirk on her face told him that would never happen, but he could keep dreaming. 

* * *

The night approached very quickly after eating again, changing Tony, letting him have time to explore (mostly because May had said that was important) and settling down to watch one of the older Disney movies. (“The Jungle Book is a classic Peter, you need to make sure that Anthony is raised right.” “Whatever you say, Aunt May.” He’d skipped the intro in favor of taking a shower. It’d been a long day.) Pretty soon though, it was time to go to bed. He was going to take the night off from patrolling in favor of making sure that Tony would actually get sleep. 

“Goodnight Aunt May,” Peter smiled, moving to kiss her cheek. 

“Goodnight Peter. Love you. You gonna be alright?”

Peter grinned, mock confidently as he took Tony from where he was resting and into his arms. “Ye of little faith,’ His smile melted into something more genuine as she raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll be fine. He’s a good kid.” Tony looked at him with a tired, resigned expression then, and raised a sleepy hand to pat Peter’s cheek. “See?”

May snorted. “Okay then. Let me know if you need anything, and if not I’ll see you in the morning.” She walked out of the room, sparing one more glance that usually implied May knew something he either didn’t know or didn’t want her to know, which was a little upsetting but he wasn’t going to dwell on it. 

He walked into his room, trying to remember if Mr. Stark had been here since the remodel of it. He settled Tony on the bottom bunk of his bed and gracelessly threw off his jeans and shirt in favor of gym shorts and a softer, worn t-shirt that had previously been Ned’s before pulling Tony up to get him ready too. He babbled softly and reached his shaky left hand up to grab at Peters hair. Peter, for his part, was doing absolutely nothing to hide his smile. 

Changing him into a new diaper and pajamas proved to be easier this time around. He guessed it was because the toddler had finally worn himself out, because for as much Mr. Stark claimed he was wired on caffeine, his smaller version was managing just fine without it. Not necessarily super hyper like Peter had expected him to be, just very perceptive. He seemed to take in as much of everything he could as fast as he possibly could. It left Peter guessing as to whether that was actually what Mr. Stark had been like as a kid, or if that was his adult self bleeding through and trying to figure out things from this perspective as much as he could before he changed back to normal. Although, neither would be too surprising, he supposed.

He just hoped if it was Mr. Stark watching, that he wouldn’t, like, disown Peter or avoid him for the next millennia after this was over, especially since they’d finally come to a somewhat stable point in their relationship. 

The teen turned curious eyes down at his mentor, who was currently traipsing his sweater paws ( _ Sweater paws!  _ Peter would kiss Friday if he could.) across the underside of his chin and across his jaw. “Have you ever done a blanket fort before?”

Inquisitively, Tony turned his eyes up toward Peter and placed his hands on Peter’s cheeks for leverage. “For’?” 

Peter’s eyes sparkled mischievously.”I so know what we’re doing tonight.” The words were delicately slurred due to the ravioli sized baby fists playing with his face, but Tony giggled at the sound, so Peter smiled too. 

He placed Tony down on the floor carefully. “Ready?” He asked softly, moving a couple steps away and letting his arms inch their way behind him and to his sides again and again. Once Tony let out a noise that sounded close enough to a confirmation for Peter, he fully extended his arms back and jumped, flipping to the ceiling and sticking there like it was the most natural thing in the world. He glanced down to Mr. Stark with a reassuring smile. If the kid’s eyes got wider, Peter was sure they’d pop out of his head. 

He easily grabbed the sheets off of the top bunk and stuck them to the bed frame to the tune of little Tony babbling a mile per minute. He answered back whatever questions he could piece together while trying to get the blankets in the right places. He shot them with a small amount of webbing for show, but ultimately placed rubber bands around the part folded over the tips of the frame to insure that the blankets wouldn’t fall when the webbing dissolved. Satisfied with his handy work, he silently flipped to the ground and bowed to finish off his entirely unnecessary process. 

Almost as soon as he landed on the floor, Tony was raising his arms to be picked up. The baby examined his hands and feet and  _ him _ with renewed vigor, like Peter was a puzzle that he could solve if he tried hard enough. He continued to chatter excitedly with grabby hands until Peter moved one of his so he could investigate. Mr. Stark was so engaged with it that he didn’t even notice Peter had moved to lay down on the bottom bunk, the city light from the window reflecting in the sheet and making everything glow purple. 

Peter was impressed, cause Tony kept going like that for about ten minutes before he really looked around, smiling and yawning and just in awe of everything. (“Purbul!” “Yeah kiddo, pretty cool huh?”) Eventually though, he dropped himself down and curled up to Peter. He really didn’t think Mr. Stark would make such a cuddly kid, but maybe, just maybe, he was looking for Peter’s acceptance too.

He thought that Tony had fallen asleep, when a small hand smacked onto his chest. “‘Ing,” The tiny voice requested.

Peter frowned in confusion. “Sing? Have you heard me sing? I sound like a drowning cow. Wouldn’t you rather have like a story or something?”

“‘Ing,” Came the voice again, hesitantly followed by “Momma doe’. You ‘ound good ‘oo.”

Oh.

Peter nodded, like he wasn’t about to horribly embarrass himself. “Okay Mr. Stark, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Any requests?” A moment was spent trying not to think too hard about the fact that Tony was making sentences, but also using the present tense to address his mom.

An irritated poke. “‘Ing.”

Peter snorted, “I don’t think I know that one.” His brain scanned through whatever classic rock had been instilled in him by Ben and May and Mr. Stark until he found one he thought would make a decent lullaby. “Okay, kiddo, last chance to get off the train before it starts rolling.” Tony stared at him expectantly, nudging himself closer into Peter. 

Taking that as a good enough cue as any, he began singing “Your Song” a bit uncertainly at first, but found his footing sometime after he realized he didn’t know the third verse. It was gentle and sweet and actually sounded pretty good even though he normally didn’t like singing for people he wasn’t absolutely and unabashedly comfortable with. He guessed he was getting there with Mr. Stark. 

That night he fell asleep singing along to the beat of Tony’s soft snores.

* * *

 

Of course it couldn’t last.

Peter’s senses woke him up, catching one of Tony’s tiny feet before it made contact with his side. He whimpered as tears and snot ran down his face, and he crawled up Peter’s chest so he could put his hand possessively on it. “Mine! My kee’d!” Peter stated blankly for a moment before he realized what he was saying.  _ My kid. Ohhhh.  _ Tony blinked up at him angrily. _ “ _ ‘Possed be afe’ wif me. ‘Ow ca’ I he’p ‘ike me?” Peters brain scrambled to translate the choppy dialogue mixed in with crying. When he got the jist though, he pulled the child impossibly closer. Tony's arms wrapped around him as far as possible, shrieking out a sob when he couldn't get as far as he desperately wanted to.

“You're forgetting something super important here Mr. Stark.” Peter stroked his hair, trying to think of something to do to console him. “I know you feel responsible for me, but you’re not obligated to do that. I know that won’t stop you. You look out for me,  and I appreciate it, I do, but you have to know that it’s not a one way street.” Peter paused for a moment. “I know most of the time you only see me as a kid, but I’m also a superhuman. I can stop cars with my bare hands. I know you’ll always look out for me, let me look out for you.” Tony buried his face into Peter’s chest, so Peter took it as a win. “Right now you can’t protect me in the same way I know you want to. And that’s okay, cause you better believe that I’m not going to let anything happen to myself when I know you’re counting on me. Besides,” he continued, “You’ll be back to your adult self very soon. With Iron Man protecting me and Spiderman protecting you, we’ll both be safe.” 

“Yo’o shoudn’‘ave ‘o. 

“Have you ever thought maybe I want to?” Tony didn’t have a response for that at the moment, so Peter laid back down and made himself comfortable. “In the meantime, why don’t we get some sleep kiddo? We’ve had a long day.”

“My ‘ine,” He whimpered, but it sounded teasing. Peter smiled back.

“You’re a popular man, can’t expect it not to catch on,”

There was quiet for a moment. “Goo’nigh’ Pe’er,” 

“Night Tony,” 

Tony might have smiled at that, but he moved his head to the side where Peter couldn’t tell. He drifted back off to Peter’s soft and progressively raspier singing, the slow rise and fall of his chest, and the off-kilter rhythm of his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter I've written for any story I've done, and probably the most John Mulaney infested. I don't know whether to feel tired or accomplished.


	3. It's gotta get worse before it gets better

May was up before them the next day when Tony discovered that not only could Peter stick to things, things could stick to Peter. He’d been attaching things like toys and blankets and his hands to him all morning, giggling with excitement when every next item would stick. Peter was happy to indulge, sticking and unsticking at will. When he’d first gotten his powers he’d done things like this, but he was enjoying having an audience. 

He was tempted to get up and cook, but May was insistent upon making food, and to her credit, it was pretty hard to mess up oatmeal. That wouldn’t stop it from happening necessarily, but still. She seemed to be in a good mood though, humming something off key.

_ Oh.  _

“Don’t tell me you could hear me last night,” Peter moaned, letting the lego hanging on the side of his arm fall to the floor. May just smiled in return. 

“You have a really good singing voice dear, you should sing more often.” Peter rolled his eyes slightly, letting his body follow suit and bringing his legs up. Gently, he placed Tony on top of them and reveled in the chatter.

“I sing with you all the time, what are you talking about?” He asked, keeping his eyes carefully trained on Tony to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself.

“But that’s rarely our actual singing voices! What we do together is more” she makes a rolling gesture with her hand, the knife in it following suit.  “Caterwauling.” She finishes. 

“And you’d take away the fun of that?” Peter lifts his head up to more effectively shake it, sequentially getting more violent with it for Tony’s amusement. He felt vaguely light-headed afterward but grins at May nonetheless. “Never,” 

May quirks an eyebrow at him, and a faint smile graces her face the way it always does when something reminds her of Ben. She knew he’d be so proud of who Peter was growing up to be. Peter was always less sure of that. He’d never had a high self-esteem, but more than that he always thought people saw the worst in him. She still wasn’t the biggest fan of the man, but she could see spending time with Tony Stark was improving Peter’s confidence. For that, she’d always be grateful. 

Maybe that’s why she does what she does next. Sneakily, she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture, sending it off to Tony who Peter was currently imitating flight with, unbeknownst to her, with the caption “Your kid’s in good hands.” May knew she wouldn’t have done that a few months ago. Disregarding if she wanted to or not, It wouldn’t have been an option. She’d gotten his number sometime after she knew about the Vulture incident, if for nothing else than her own sanity. They’d had a long, drawn-out conversation when everything was said and done, but she got her point across, and he seemed to be listening.

At first, she’d wanted to stop Peter. He had all these preconceived notions that because he had powers he owed people something when she knew that wasn’t true at all. Every night he went off to fight for complete and utter strangers, and every night she would lay in bed hoping to God that he’d come back home safely. He was only 16, why should he have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders? 

The night she found out he was Spider-Man she’d been livid. Angry at herself for not figuring it out sooner, angry at Tony for giving him a suit Peter obviously couldn’t have gotten on his own, always angry at the man who had shot Ben, who would know what to do in this situation. But, no matter what, she couldn’t be mad at Peter.

He’d looked so much like Ben when he’d said it. “With great power, there must also come great responsibility.” There was no stopping Spider-Man, she knew that. She also knew Peter was a good kid, knew he knew when to back down. He hadn't, so she did. How couldn't she have, when he looked at her with the resolve of someone so old? How couldn't she have, when he told her that he wouldn't let any more families get broken apart when he could do something to stop that from happening? Peter would always be her baby, and she would always be worried about him, but she couldn't ask him to stay when she knew it would kill him on the inside. Both of them had cried that day, but Spider-Man still protected Queens and May could not have been more proud of him.

Seeing him with Anthony was dredging up memories with Peter as a toddler though. She’d never been someone who’d wanted kids, and she’d never felt entirely comfortable around them, but when she met Peter she adored him instantly. He’d loved exploring and hugs and stories at that age, mild-mannered and extremely well behaved. He got older faster than she could keep track of. As a toddler, he’d cling to her leg and become her shadow whenever she would come over to visit Mary and Richard. She had never wanted him to grow up.

She’d never wanted kids, but something in her world definitely fell into place once she got Peter.

“I’m going to have to get to work soon you two. Peter, will you be able to hold down the fort?” 

Peter turned to her, with wide eyes that he had never quite grown out of curious and slightly concerned. “I think I have this.” His face slackened with realization. “And even if I don’t, I have people I can call.” He paused with consideration before his face lit up slightly. “I have Karen too, which is always a plus. So yeah I should be good.” 

May frowned slightly. “You’ll call me if anything bad happens?”

Peter nodded. “Of course.” He wouldn’t unless it got really bad. She needed the hours, and Tony wasn’t throwing him anything he hadn’t been able to handle yet. Frankly, it was harder to figure out his adult counterpart than it was him. 

So, she made her last-minute preparations and left Peter to his own devices. 

* * *

The sudden sickness didn’t come until the 24-hour mark, festering in odd bursts and waves. First, it had been rapid increases and decreases in body temperature, then it had been headaches, and now this. His heart physically hurt from listening to Tony’s crying. “Hey, shhh shh shh,” He soothed, rubbing Tony’s back softly and wincing when he threw up again. Peter knew the towel on his shoulder that cupped up into covered pillows on his bed would be able to handle it, hopefully, and as much as it sucked to get thrown up on he didn’t envy Tony. “Let it out buddy you’ll feel better after.” It was hard sometimes to be optimistic, but he felt like he needed to be for everyone else’s sake.

“Karen,” Peter asked, speaking into an earpiece he’d modified to sync up with the suit. “Do you know what’s going on with him?” He kept his voice soft and went to wipe off Tony’s face.

“I’m detecting a physical anomaly acting on the outside of his chest that’s affecting his entire being. It’s diluting the magic in his system, by converting it into electrical, hormonal, or physical reactions.” Peter held back his wince. That didn’t sound good. Karen continued, “Each reaction seems to be moving quickly, individually of the other.”

“Well, at least there’s that. Shh, little one, Peter’s here, I’ve got you.” Peter cooed. Tony’s hand clung tighter to Peter’s shirt, and Peter felt his heart shatter even more. “Is there anything I can do to help him?”

She makes a soft buzzing noise for a moment before responding. “As according to a database search, keeping him upright like you’re doing now is suitable. Laying him down on his side or stomach are also acceptable alternatives, but my scans have shown that he is the most comfortable when curled up in your arms.” Peter smiled softly, eyes crinkling up at the edges. 

“I like having you here too bud, we’ll get through this together.” He let his head gently lean on to Tony’s in a way that he hoped was reassuring. It took a few minutes to make sure he wasn’t going to throw up again. “You good now Mr. Stark?”

He whimpered softly before leaning back into Peter’s neck, so he took that as a yes. Theoretically, that meant that this period of illness had ended, which he would definitely be happy about. 

“Okay, cool. Do you mind if I get rid of the towel then? It’ll just take a minute. My shirt’s much comfier, I promise.” 

Tony’s hand clung tighter. “‘Don’ go.” His voice was rough and panicky. “I don’ wan’ you ‘o go.”

Peter swallowed past a lump in his throat. “I’m not going to leave you. Not now, not ever, not if I can help it.” His voice came off strong and determined. When he felt the toddler stiffen he softened his voice and gently moved his head to get to the towel. “It’ll be okay,” Peter assured. Tony instantly dove back into his neck once it was removed, so Peter folded it together and threw it toward the door. He pulled the blanket he was sporting up over Tony’s back. The extra body heat was nice. Peter had a feeling Tony thought so too because the feathery hair nuzzled down into his neck and the hands came back to cling to his shirt. 

“Tired?” Peter asked knowingly. Tony grunted, defiant, and Peter laughed. “It’s okay Mr. Stark, you haven’t slept a lot lately. If you want to catch up go right ahead.” 

   “Day,” Tony said, and Peter felt the toddler’s left hand raise and point out the window. It shook again, and Peter found himself wondering if that was another illness coming on. “No nap, no’ a baby,” 

   Peter feigned offense. “Hey now, naps aren’t just for babies, they’re national treasures. I take naps all the time, do I look like a baby to you?”

   Tony giggled. “Yeah!” 

   Peter looked at him, unimpressed. “Mr. Stark, how old am I?”

   “Fif’een,” He said, still smiling. His head found it’s way back to Peter’s shoulder. “You my baby.” 

   Peter’s eyes glanced down for a moment, before deciding it was worth it. “My baby,” He said with a smirk, pulling Tony closer and ruffling his hair. 

Tony, for his part, screeched. “No’ a baby!” His hand lightly hit Peter, and the screech wasn’t exactly pleasant to his sensitive hearing, but the teen was chortling and nothing was going to stop him now. So, Tony pouted.

“Okay, what about this then,” Peter said after his laughter subsided. “Captain America took a nap for seventy years. That is alone longer than either of us has been alive. So If he can do it and not be a baby, then it’s cool for you to do it too. Literally actually, cause he was in the ice - and dear God is taking care of you making me talk in dad jokes? Is that’s what’s happening here?” 

Tony didn’t bother to reply, which he guessed was confirmation. Instead, he yawned. Peter blinked, trying to think if there was actually anything he needed to do before Tony fell asleep. “Hey, do you want some water?” 

Tony nodded, so Peter grabbed the sippy cup off of his nightstand and held it up to his lips. He didn’t know why Tony hadn’t brought it up to him, vomiting always left an awful aftertaste. A small hand pushed him away after a long moment. 

The urge to sleep seemed to be catching up to him because he could hear Tony’s heart rate and breathing begin to even out. So, swallowing his pride yet again, he began to hum softly. The kid instantly melted against him and drifted off. “Love ya kiddo,” Peter smiled and instinctively placed a kiss to the side of his temple, not thinking anything of it. When he was sure he was really sleeping, he gently removed the hands clinging to him and tucked him into his bed. He got up slowly, making sure to grab the towel on the way out of the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for an update, writers block decided to say hello. Also, my apologies for this chapter being so short, I'm thinking about expanding this story another chapter now if you guys are interested.


	4. All you need is batter to feel better

Peter checked his phone, eyes bleary. He needed to go out tonight and see if anything was happening. Something was stopping him though, he knew he couldn’t leave Tony with May after she’d worked a full day, and he really didn’t want to leave him at all. He really didn’t have much of a choice but to stay and he felt weird that the idea wasn’t bothering him as much as it should have. 

It was only one day, but one day could yield a lot of bad stuff happening. He didn’t know what to do. So, he asked Karen to keep an eye on the news updates, letting her pilfer through any suspicious calls. He’d be back again tomorrow. 

Peter yawned, feeling several bones creak in the process. It was becoming more common, but he had advanced healing so he wasn’t too concerned about it. He found himself using that excuse a lot recently. But he didn’t have a lot left to do, since Tony was napping and he’d already eaten and straightened up a little bit. He wasn’t sure he was used to the feeling anymore. 

So, he decided it was high time to relax and catch up on some good old Youtube. He was snapped out of it while watching a “Vines That Keep me From Ending it All” compilation video. Peter almost didn't register his eyes expanding as he floored it back to his room. The sound Tony was making was nothing like he had ever heard before, and frankly nothing like he ever wanted to hear again. It was screaming, high and petrified like one would only hear in a horror movie when some sort of uncanny valley crap would swing down from a doorway. It was honestly terrifying to him.  

He was stuck frozen for a moment, a second he would feel guilty about for a long time, before springing into action in the only way he could think of.  He went to pick him up, but he stopped when the screaming grew louder. His touch was making things worse. Peter pulled his hand back as though he touched something scalding. Looking desperate,  Peter knelt down to become eye level with his bed and, by extension, Tony. "Mr. Stark, please wake up. It's Peter, Parker. Remember me? It'll be okay. Whatever you're seeing right now isn't real. I am. I'm here, and I'm real, and I can help you if you let me. Please just let me." Peter let out a ragged breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "You have to wake up Tony, please. Shhh, It'll be okay. You're stronger than whatever you're seeing right now." Peter continued this for a few moments, eyes watery. He may not have been the best with emotions, but he had them in abundance and right now every instinct he had screamed to help. 

Then came the miraculous moment when Tony's eyes blinked open. Peter thought it might be better then, but they just seemed cloudy for a moment with a lack of recognition before Tony shrank back in fear and started screaming. Tony's mind was clearly someplace else.  "'op pwease!" Peter felt his insides go numb. "I be be'er! Jus' op! Pwease!" 

"Tony, it's okay, it's okay, it's me. Peter Parker. I'm not going to hurt you, Tony, you're safe." Peter tried feeling a little bit like crying himself. Tony was clearly channeling something that happened a long time ago and Peter couldn't do any substantial damage to whatever thoughts were plaguing Tony's mind. He was learning that what Tony’s vocabulary was like helped to figure out what age his mind was. His brain raced to try and figure it out at the same time he was figuring out what to do about it. He was clearly either young when this happened or desperate enough to not be talking much. A sickening feeling crept over him when he realized it could be both.

But what could it be that seemed to be causing him to be screaming and hyperventilating like this? It almost seemed like some sort of PTSD panic attack. He didn’t think toddlers could have those, but then again this wasn’t technically a toddler. Tony was clutching his left arm to his chest in the same way Peter had seen him do a couple of times before. Come to think of it, wasn’t it shaking last night?

Something in Tony's brain must have snapped back then. "Pe'er," He whimpered before the sobbing reinstated itself. Peter tried to reach out again and this time the kid had no problems latching on to him, clinging desperately like Peter was his only way to keep grounded in reality. Peter, misty-eyed and thoroughly relieved, held Tony tightly and nuzzled his face into the baby's hair. He rocked them both back and forth, whispering comforting words as Tony fumbled for a better grip, forcing his heart rate to be steady and soothing. He knew he needed to be the strong one, he needed Tony to know that he was safe. Peter wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of that, including himself. They stayed like this for several minutes as Peter did the best he could, wondering frenziedly if there was anything else he could be doing to help. It had been quite a while since he had last felt this helpless. Eventually Tony stopped crying, clearly still upset but moderately more aware of what was happening. Peter waited a few minutes longer before he finally asked: "Do you want to talk about it?"

If he was with the adult version of Mr. Stark, Peter knew the answer would have been no, the whole scenario brushed off with a joke while his shoulders shook and he looked about ten years older than he was. But this was a tired little kid who just needed someone to be there for him. Peter knew the feeling well. The only thing Peter could make out when he did try to say something was the name "Howard," spoken through sobs and lisp. When his brain made the connection he clutched Tony tighter. He hadn't realized it then, but he had added himself to the list of people who wanted to punch Howard Stark. 

"It's okay Tony, Howard can't hurt you now. You're not him and you’re not a byproduct of him. You're smart and amazing and witty, and if your dad couldn't see that it's his loss.  I get to hang out with you like once a week at best, but whenever I do see you I feel like the luckiest kid alive. " Peter said, gently rubbing circles in Tony's back. He couldn't tell if what he said was helping or not, but Tony seemed calmer. His left arm was shaking like crazy though, and the gears in his head kept turning, remembering something he read about arm pain or limb spasms and wondering if there was a correlation. “He won’t get you, buddy, I’m here. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.” 

They stayed like that for a while, Peter trying to come to terms with everything in his head. He remembered Friday saying he hadn’t had a good childhood, but he didn’t really have a good one either. It wasn’t anything like this though. His parents had never been abusive, and neither had Uncle Ben or Aunt May. He’d lost them young but he had good memories of them. None of this was anything he’d been told before, and he’d done his research on Tony Stark. Granted, Mr. Stark had never exactly brought up his dad either, but he chalked it up to Tony not wanting to talk about his personal life in general. Peter sighed, confused and conflicted in a stronger way than he normally was. He flopped back, taking Tony with him as the kid still seemed unwilling to let go.

Clutching an arm would probably mean it was in pain or that you were trying to make yourself smaller and less intimidating. Peter couldn’t exactly rule either option out. He vaguely remembered learning in health class that people with heart issues sometimes had pain that radiated out into the limbs, and that panic attacks could make you feel sore because you tensed your muscles so much. Mr. Stark had both of those things, and Peter couldn’t imagine a combination of the two would be fun in a toddler-sized body with a lower threshold for pain. “Does your arm hurt?” Peter asked. Tony nodded with a choked sob and Peter gave a bitter smile. He knew it was a long shot, but maybe a placebo could help if he was aiming to psychologically affect Tony to fight his anxiety. “Hey, you know what my mom used to tell me?” Tony didn’t respond other than a sniffle and big Bambi eyes staring at him, so Peter gave him the warmest smile he could muster and gently moved his arm closer to his face. “She used to tell me that kisses could heal all sorts of things.” He placed a small kiss on Tony’s arm while Tony stared. He seemed like he was going to pull it back for a moment, but instead, he stuck it out further.

“Hand owie ‘oo,” He said soberly. 

Peter nodded like a sage although he was beginning to internally melt. This cuteness had to be illegal because he his heart was going to be a puddle soon and it would kill him and then he’d be dead. Well, unless he followed Captain America’s “You died? Walk it off,” philosophy. 

“Well that has to be fixed then,” Peter stated, gently smooching his hand. Tony seemed satisfied with that. 

That taken care of, he averted his eyes upward. He had the wooden slats of the bunk bed above him memorized. Every little crack, all the warped spots, the dent from when he’d woken up from a nightmare and abruptly hit his head. He wished relationships were more like bed frames. He wished he could know where he stood with people. 

He breathed out a sigh, quiet but incredibly heavy. “You’re not going to hate me after this,” He paused for just a split second, wanting so desperately to leave it there but he knew he couldn’t. He knew it was a question, not a statement. “Right?” Tony kept his head down, and he didn’t know whether this was the adult mindset or the kid mindset he was talking to right now, or some weird amalgamation of both. At the moment he didn’t care. He needed to get this off his chest. “You probably never wanted me to know about this. I know you prefer to be aloof and distant when you can be. You don’t want me to see the vulnerable parts of you.”

“I get that, I do, it’s the other half of why I wear the mask. The people I’m fighting can’t know how I really feel. The more they write me off the better off I am. It's a fighting tactic." The fact that it was also a coping mechanism for people who had been through years of bullying was left unsaid, but he knew it. If Tony was using it to, then what else had happened in his past? He blew out a breath reaching a hand up and letting it fall behind him. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t know if it was out of frustration or sadness. “Look, Mr. Stark, I promise you I'm trying my best. I swore to my uncle that I would. And yeah, a lot of the time it makes my life harder, and it doesn’t work out well for me, and I just seem stupid or inexperienced or reckless. But I care so much. So it’d be nice if you’d let me know if you want me to continue the way I have been with you, or if you’d prefer if I just left you alone if it’s not Spider-Man related.” He glanced down, nodding when he saw Tony sucking his thumb, just kind of watching him. He wasn’t talking to any part of Tony that would realize what he was saying right now. He brought his hand up to rub circles in his back anyway. “You probably don’t have time for me anyway, and once you go back to normal that will continue too. And that’s okay.” It wasn’t, not to Peter, but he understood completely. It didn’t mean it made him feel any less empty when a call was ignored or he was left on read by Happy. He knew they all cared, but sometimes it was hard to convince himself of that when he was ignored as he was. It was easy to feel like he was being used. “I get that I’m just one annoying kid. But did you mean it when you called me your kid, your baby?” Peter’s faced scrunched thoughtfully. “And what did you mean by that? Like, I have so many questions that I know I’m not going to get the answers to until you’re back to normal.  If you remember this that is, or if I bring it up again to you. Which, I mean, no." Just like that Peter was curious again.

"Would you even want to remember this? Would we be better off if you didn't?" Tony rolled off of Peter and onto the mattress, so Peter brought him to stand on his chest. "Like, I can't imagine what you'd have to say to me when this is over with.  Knowing you, you'd probably avoid me for several weeks on end, and then we'd go back to whatever we were doing before this happened. I can't say I would blame you for it, being turned into a baby isn't exactly something I can say that I'd bounce back from quickly." Tony made grabby hands down at him, and Peter couldn't help his laugh. "God, you're cute though," 

He kicked himself up, trying to convince himself not to worry too much. Whatever would happen would happen, regardless of whether he wanted it to or not. "Alright champ, enough moping around on my part. What do you say we cheer you up?" He flipped Tony over to play with his hands, bouncing him on his lap. Tony began to talk in toddler babble and Peter felt like he had never heard a better sound in his life.

 

Cheering up, as it turned out, couldn’t mean going outside after what happened last time on top of the threat of allergies. The roof wasn’t a good option either because this form of Tony was scared of heights as it turned out. So, they made cookies instead. Peter wasn’t the best at most things in cooking, but he’d learned cookies as a reward system for long periods of studying. It was an old sugar cookie recipe that his dad had loved to make. According to Aunt May, his parents had thought of cooking as science and were a lot better at it than she was. They’d made all sorts of food from all different cultures. But the sugar cookie recipe had been passed down the family for years as one of their favorites. 

   He helped Tony wash his hands carefully and they got to work, tunes playing in the background. They made it with a few casualties of eggs from a messy attempt from Tony and a lack of strength regulation from Peter. Fortunately, they were smart enough to crack them into a separate bowl, so no harm was done. Peter remembered to set out the butter early, remembering a failed attempt before the bite to cream the butter and sugar with an old electronic hand mixer. The butter wasn’t soft enough, and the mixer was having such a hard time that it lit on fire from the inside. Fortunately, nothing else had burnt and he had only banned himself from the kitchen for two months, so no harm was done. Ben had thought it was hilarious, but Peter felt horrible about it, hence why he was the one to ban himself. About fifteen minutes after they started the mixture went to chill in the freezer and they were left to their own devices. Fortunately, Tony was easy to entertain and just seemed happy to have the attention. Peter laughed as he tried to teach little Tony how to dance, although he knew the adult form probably already knew from galas and other such events he went to. Peter wasn’t a good ballroom dancer, although he could do all the parts to “DNA” by BTS from memory at this point, but he figured ballroom dancing would be easiest for someone who couldn’t walk all that far yet. Besides, he figured ballroom dancing was already Tony’s area of expertise so it wouldn’t matter too much. He’d admit willingly though that waltzing to Viva la Vida was a bit of a conflict of interests.

   Eventually, the timer rang and they went to get the dough out of the fridge so they could roll out and shape the cookies. While Peter knew he wasn’t an artist, Tony wasn’t bad at all. He cut out shapes with a dull plastic butter knife while Peter used cookie cutters to get the job done. The amount of colored sugar they added would be enough to make his gym teacher cry, but Tony liked the way they looked and Peter wasn’t about to complain. They felt like they were done and cool enough to eat minutes after, and while Peter thought they tasted pretty good, they were the best cookies he’d ever eaten due to Tony’s over the top groan of delight and the way his eyes widened as he bit into it. Even if he would have to deal with a hyper toddler after, that reaction made it worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. Sorry if this chapter was a bit too angsty, I was sick when I began writing it yesterday and that tends to yield more angst from my brain. If you were wondering "Wow, setting a mixer on fire sounds really specific, I wonder what was going through her mind when she wrote that." Its because I actually did that in real life. I'm almost as awkward and unlucky as Peter is on the occasion lol, so if you're going to make cookies, please do wait for the butter to soften.
> 
> Sugar Cookie Recipe that has been passed down in my family for 2 generations, which is actually from Mrs. Field's but we don't ever mention that (yields 3 dozen small, size of cookie will change batch size):  
> Ingredients:  
> 2 cups All-Purpose Flour  
> ¾ cup salted butter, softened  
> ¼ tbs. Salt  
> ¾ cup white sugar  
> 1 large egg  
> 1 tsp pure vanilla extract  
> Optional: Colored sugar or other decorations
> 
> Instructions:  
> Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit.  
> In a medium bowl combine the flour and salt with a wire whisk.  
> In a large mixing bowl cream the butter and sugar with an electric mixer on medium speed. Add the egg and vanilla, and beat until well mixed. Scrape down the sides of bowl, then add the flour mixture. Blend on low speed just until combined. Do not overmix.  
> Gather dough into a ball. Flatten the ball into a disk and wrap tightly in plastic wrap or a plastic bag. Refrigerate 1 hour until firm.  
> On a floured surface, roll out dough to a ¼ inch thickness. With cookie cutters, cut the dough into desired shapes and place on cookie sheets. Decorate with colored sugars or sprinkles.  
> Bake for 13-15 minutes, being careful not to brown. Immediately transfer cookies to a cool, flat surface.


	5. Closer to you, farther from you

Peter glanced at his phone, and then back at the toddler curled on the floor drawing something he couldn't see with the random markers Peter had found scattered in his desk. It was getting late, quickly, and it was making him wonder where the time had gone. It was perfect timing, really, that had Tony finishing his drawing almost immediately after that. “Pe’er,” Tony announced, climbing unceremoniously to his feet and wobbling over to cling to Peter’s leg. 

“Tony,” Peter mimicked, pulling the kid into his lap. Tony made a big show of making sure he didn’t see the picture before he wanted him to, so he indulged him and obligingly looked away as Tony made himself comfortable. He waited until he felt a tug on his shirt to turn his gaze back to him.

The kid, looking uncharacteristically abashed, raised the paper upside down. “I drew i’ for ‘ou,” Tony said, softly and pensively. Peter gently maneuvered it closer to him like he had just been given a check that would pay for his entire college tuition. He flipped the paper with great decorum and couldn’t help the smile from splitting across his face. The drawing was sketchy but surprisingly accurate of Peter with Iron Man. If that was any indication, they were getting closer to Tony’s return to normal. Still though, it was curious as to why Tony would draw the armor instead of himself. Did he not want to draw himself? Peter’s smile dimmed when he thought back to earlier. Tony didn’t feel like he deserved to be in the picture, so he drew Iron Man instead. It was a way to be there without being there. 

“This is really, really good,” Peter said, choked up and not knowing how to feel. “Thank you so much,”

Tony looked startled. He stood up and placed a sloppy kiss to the side of his face he could reach and Peter huffed out a laugh. “Don’ cry,” Tony admonished worriedly. 

“Who said anything about crying? I’m not crying.” He smiled for affect. “See, I’m perfectly fine.” Tony let out a squeak as Peter stood up and carried him to his desk. Clumsily, he taped the four edges of the picture to the wall right above it with one hand. “You did so well that I’m going to put it in the place of honor.”

Tony took the distraction bait and glowed with pride, so Peter took that as his cue to walk back and nestle into his bed, noting with no small sense of satisfaction how Tony climbed haphazardly back onto his chest with a look of determination. “Hi there Tones,” Peter said with a soft, playful smile on his face, the kind that usually meant he was going to make a bad pun or something of a similarly disappointing nature for whoever was on the receiving end. He was sure Tony had become accustomed to it now. The toddler smacked his hands against Peter, pulling on Peter’s shirt and maybe trying to smooth the wrinkles? It was hard to tell. “You getting comfy?” Peter asked, gently grabbing one of Tony’s hands. Peter wasn’t by any means large, but right now his hands were swallowing Mr. Stark’s. They were undeniably warm though, unable to keep still for long and uncalloused like he knew they wouldn’t be when he returned to being an adult. 

When he went back to being an adult. That would be tomorrow, wouldn’t it? He glanced down at Mr. Stark, wrapping an arm protectively around him before checking the clock. It was ten P.M. That meant he had around sixteen hours left of this adorable, sweet little toddler. He was exhausted. Between keeping him clean and eating and happy, Peter had no substantial social rest. Not to mention, he wasn’t always the best at taking care of himself. He would push through it, he always did, but somehow he didn’t find himself minding it this time. His gaze refused to leave Tony, and all of a sudden he was hit with how soon this would be over. Both him and Tony would move on with their lives. He wanted Mr. Stark, his actual full-sized Mr. Stark, back. But at the same time, he felt like he would be losing someone close to him. He’d become so quickly attached to this baby that he didn’t want to see him go. Peter pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple. “I’ve got you.” He breathed. “No matter what else happens, I got you,” 

The corners of Tony’s lips quirked up, and something about how his face was arranged was wholeheartedly adult Tony. “Always.” He responded simply. He twisted his head up to look at him, big eyes completely trusting. Peter didn’t feel like he deserved that.  “An’ I know.”

Peter chuckled softly, and when he shook his head his curls fell down. He didn’t bother trying to push them back up. “Yeah, you always seem to.”

They sat for a moment in comfortable silence before Peter absentmindedly reached for his phone. He stuck it to the bottom of the bunk above him and took a picture of the two of them.

“‘Ong?” Tony asked.

“I see you, I knew this was going to happen,” Peter said with a smile. Suddenly singing didn’t seem like it’d be all that horrible. 

Tony, for his part, seemed determined to flip this on him.  He hummed softly seeming to warm up his voice. Peter tilted his head, curious. “Wait,” Peter said, an idea forming. Tony perked up. “Before we go to sleep for the night, I have a proposal. Do you want to join me for a video?” Peter asked with a mischievous smile before he could shake himself out of the idea. 

“Yeah!” Tony grinned bouncing up higher onto Peter’s chest. “Video!” 

Mustn't melt, Peter thought, although his cheeks were pushing his eyes up and there was a warm sensation in his chest. Spider-Man may have been hard to defeat, but Peter Parker could easily be taken down by small, cuddly children. Stop the presses. “Alright I’m going to say 3,2,1 and I’m going to turn it on, okay?” 

“Okay,” Tony chirped. Peter smiled and turned his phone to video mode.

“3,2,1, bop,” He said pressing record. He was going to say something as an introduction, but Tony beat him to the punch. He waved to the camera energetically “Hi Pe’er!”

Peter laughed, moving one arm to tuck around Tony and the other one to wave as well. “Hey future me.” He looked down and smiled fondly at the toddler. “And maybe Mr. Stark too if you end up wanting to see this.” 

Tony whipped his head around in a way that wasn’t unlike what Peter had done when Tony had talked about Aunt May in the first video they’d recorded together. “O’ve cour’ce.”

Peter gave him an amused smile. “I guess that answers that question then.” He tilted his gaze up the camera. “Hello then, Mr. Stark. I’ve gotten to spend the past day and a half-ish with you at this point. And it's been super fun! Not gonna lie though, I'm a bit concerned about the Alien Wizzrobe-looking dude.  I'm sure by the time you'll be watching this back that'll have been resolved somehow."

Tony spoke up then. "Robe?" 

Peter glanced back down. "Its a little mini-boss in the Zelda series. You've played a Legend of Zelda game right?" Tony shook his head. Peter looked up at the camera, pained.  "Breath of the wild. When you go back to normal, we're going to play it."

Mr. Stark blinked for a moment before he smiled in realization. Quickly though that realization turned to excitement. "Look look!" He popped up to balance on Peter's legs, and Peter quickly moved his arms to steady the happy toddler.  "Arm," He asked. Peter complied, looking like a confused, albeit content, puppy again. "He hold anyt'ing!" Peter laughed, realization sweeping over him. 

"Yeah kiddo, I'm a sticky dude. You wanna show the camera?"

Tony bounced and Peter breathed out a huffy laugh. "Yeah!" Gently, Peter snuck a couple fingers under Tony's shirt and stuck them to his back. Then, he lifted him up carefully. Tony giggled excitedly, kicking his feet. 

"P'chuu, P'chuu, P'chuu," Peter vocalized, smiling hugely as he motioned flying before plopping Tony back down on his lap. 

Tony looked at him like he had strung the stars.  He hopped back up to hug Peter, and Peter's smile as he tucked his arms back around Tony was blinding.  "'o cool." He whispered, and Peter looked up at the camera like he had just gotten to pet a ridiculously cute puppy. 

“You’re far cooler than me Tony, but thanks,” Tony pulled back to shake his head.

"Nuh-uh!" Tony announced, shaking his head and leaving it at that like it was non-debatable that Peter was cool. Peter knew better than to argue it. 

"So, uh, I'm still recording these videos on a regular basis, because even if I can't show them to anyone at least I can rewatch the important stuff. And this seemed important." He bit his lip and looked up at the camera a bit apprehensive, nervous beyond reproach. "Sorry if I made this awkward," He acquiesced, wanting to say more, but advising himself against it. Instead, he diverted the subject and allowed his eyes lit up with the air of an excitable puppy. "But come on, look how cute! How could I not at least have one recorded memory of this?" Tony let out an indignant huff but didn't otherwise do anything except for turning his face to hide against Peter slightly. It didn't hide his face fully, but it provided comfort and that seemed like the next best thing.

"Anyway we better get to bed soon, 'cause we need to get an early start back to the tower tomorrow. Wanna say goodbye, Tony?" Peter asked with a smile, turning his attention to the toddler. Tony, for his part, perked up and waved. "Bye!" He said, with the open emotions that only a child could really have. Peter's grin widened and he turned his camera off. 

"Nicely done little dude," Peter said easily, and the praise made Tony smile.

"Bed now?" He asked Peter, allowing himself to be laid down with little resistance. He resumed his spot contentedly. 

"Yep, 'fraid so kiddo," Peter said, sounding just as content. He threw a protective arm over him and tucked the blankets to the kid's chest. 

"I 'ing for 'ou 'hen," Tony said decidedly, and Peter found himself breathing out a laugh.

"Out of a job already? Oh, whatever shall I do?" Tony slapped him lightly with a tiny hand and took to humming. It was light and wispy, although occasionally off-key and sung with the air of a child trying to seem like an adult. It didn’t escape Peter that this could be seen as an attempt at parenting, and he kinda wanted to laugh, but he refrained. Instead he smiled and allowed himself to enjoy the nonsense words anyway, feeling unusually warm.  _ “They grow up so fast,” _ He thought to himself with a mental smirk if such a thing ever existed. He felt himself nodding off as the day caught up to him, and he could sense Tony's pleased smile more than he could see it. He was too tired to fight it, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time around, I felt like I needed to get something out. I'm a junior now! At my school its known as hell year lol, wish me luck. On the bright side, I think I might be okay in Geometry since I'm art minded? It's math though and that's not my strong suit. I got to see my English teacher whip out a sword today, so that was quality education. Next chapter (which should conclude the main story) is mostly written, so hopefully you guys will be getting it soon. Also, thank you for all the well wishes last chapter, I am feeling much better.


	6. Back to normal

Peter woke up the next morning to his chin being covered in tiny little kisses. He giggled. "Mornin' Tony," Peter said, pressing a kiss back to Tony's forehead.  "You seem chipper today."

"You're up!" Tony grinned, pouncing forward. His hands landed hard on Peter's face, and he let out a squeak at the motion. 

"I am now," Peter laughed, picking up Tony as carefully as he could manage and noticing how he slinked over like a cat. A kitten more accurately in this state. His lips quirked up. "But sleep sounds nice," Peter said, dropping Tony back onto his chest and laying back down.

"No," Tony whined but made no effort to get up.  "Up Petey!"

"But it's comfy," Peter whined in retaliation, "And you're so warm. I think I'm going to lay here all day,"

This time Tony smacked a little hand against Peter's chest. "You need to eat Petey, get up. You gotta fas'," He paused and made a face. "me-hab-lism."

Peter's head tilted before he got it and he did his best not to laugh. His face shone with amusement.  "Y-you, you mean metabolism?" 

Tony didn't answer. "Upppp," 

Peter made a considering face. "You make a convincing argument." He said, pushing himself up with a dramatic groan. Tony cheered. "Plus your 't's are on point today, so good job." 

"You so mean to me 'day," He hummed, contradicting himself by cuddling up to Peter, and the latter barked out a laugh.

"I'm always mean kiddo, thanks for noticing." 

Tony shook his head. "Nuh-uh, you a sof'ie." He turned to Peter with a grin. "Wha' is it you say? Bean?" 

Peter blanched and Tony's smile grew. "No. Nuh-uh. You're not allowed to pick that up. No saying 'bean' for you." 

Tony responded almost instantly. "Bean," 

Peter feined exasperation as he ruffled Tony's hair. "Heathen," 

Tony stuck his tongue out playfully. "Baby." He retorted, shrinking in on himself a little bit but making the comment despite any possible reservations. That bothered Peter a little bit, Adult Tony wouldn't have hesitated at all. 

"Child," Peter retorted, losing some of his energy as he walked out the door and into the kitchen. How could a kid this sweet and cuddly have been treated like trash? Then again, how much of this was the real toddler Tony had been and how much was adult Tony bleeding through because it was Peter. Had Tony actually been a reserved, scared kid? He wanted to shutter, or throw up, or both. Instead, he hugged Tony closer and Tony seemed to welcome the hold. As much as he hated it, there was nothing he could do to fix Tony's actual childhood. Hopefully, he had at least given him a good revisit to it. "He's so small right now," Peter thought, worrying. 

Tony brought him out of it. 

"Here now," Tony said, wiggling out of Peter's arms and onto the counter. Peter almost had a heart attack, but he didn't stop him. 

"Make yourself at home then," Peter huffed, concerned although he knew adult Mr. Stark was making his presence more known. He didn't want him hurting himself by falling or something of a similar manner. He figured if he hadn't seen May yet she must have already gone to work. "Alright kiddo, what would you like to eat?" 

"Cookie," Tony asked hopefully. His puppy-dog eyes were more dangerous than Peter's, but Peter had more immunity than he let on. Maybe. Okay, hopefully at best, really he's been melting the whole time he's been taking care of the baby, but he liked to believe every once in a while he had some self-preservation. A sugar high toddler in the morning would prove otherwise and he needed to be stronger for both their sakes. So, he thought of a compromise.

"Tell you what kiddo," Peter said, bending down to meet Tony's eyes. "When you go back to normal I'll make you all the cookies you want. Until then, do pancakes sound good?"

Tony blinked a couple times. "Okay," He moved to stand, and Peter's senses went off. 

"Nope, nope, not doing this." He swept the toddler up and playfully bounced him as he walked. Tony looked torn between pouting and basking in the attention. "We're going over here, so you don't accidentally die. And look, you've got a soft blanket to lay on, and toys, and soon food, so really it's a great deal if I do say so myself."

"But you're so far," Tony said, softly, and how did parents have the composure for this? He wanted to hug him forever and protect him from everything.

Peter bent down. "Hey, I'll never be that far Tony. Not if you want me to be close." 

“Then stay,” He said, confident and resigned all at once.

Peter frowned. “I'm not leaving. I'm just going to get up and make pancakes.”

“I can help,” Tony retorted. His eyes were begging now. Peter forced a small smile and shook his head, already messy curls splaying further. 

“Okay,” He said, “If you wanna help you can, I'm not going to stop you. But you can't stand on the counter. Cause I worry, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Cause you love me?”

“Cause I love you,” Peter said seriously, and Tony bounced up and took a few steps to grab onto his leg. 

“Gross,” Tony said, although he was smiling. He buried himself into Peter's shoulder once he was lifted up to his usual perch. “Love you ‘oo.”

 

* * *

  
  


Pancakes may have been a worse mistake than the cookies. At least those were somewhat clean. Aside from burning a few, syrup was a fickle mistress. Tony didn’t help matters, especially since the toddler insisted he needed to make himself a lot because of his fast ‘me-hab-lism’. He still wasn't over that, but he agreed to because he was sure Tony wouldn't take no for an answer. Which left the toddler to feed himself while Peter cooked.

Looking back he probably brought this on himself. 

Still though, he wasn't going to give him a bath because Mr. Stark would murder him if he ever found out, and Peter wasn’t exactly keen on the idea either. So, Peter did the next best thing. Wiping off a squirming toddler was more difficult than he thought it would be, but he thought he managed decently. 

Which lead to the issue of changing him, because really no amount of scrubbing could get syrup stains off of clothes. The poor kid seemed torn between throwing a fit and curling into a ball in embarrassment, and Peter couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed at the difficulties. So he tried to make it as quick as possible for the kid’s sake. He shushed and comforted as best he could, not knowing for sure if it was helping or not, but finding it better than uncomfortable silence. He was noticing that adult Tony was making his presence a lot more known today, and he couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or not. He was going to be mortified turning back, even if he didn’t remember. Peter spent far too large an amount of his life feeling that way to wish it on anyone. But if it was adult Tony, shouldn’t he have been more embarrassed through everything that had happened? Or at the very least today.

Then again, Tony didn’t seem like the type to be easily embarrassed. But he had been earlier? This whole thing was confusing. Instead, he scooped up the kid, who seemed to be looking anywhere but Peter. He had insisted on wearing the Spider-man onesie, much to Peter’s amusement. “I gotcha kiddo,” Peter said, not liking how despondent the child had become.  “It’ll be okay.” Tony looked up at him. His expression was trusting, and Peter didn’t perfectly understand how or why it was, but was grateful nonetheless. He placed a soft kiss on the toddlers head, and he perked right back up. 

And then he saw the clock. There was only six hours left before Tony was his normal self again. 

Surprisingly, Peter didn’t know how to feel about that.

* * *

 

They spent the next couple hours watching star wars on the floor and building legos, the ultimate sign that Peter was comfortable with you. At the current moment, the privilege was Ned exclusive. He was willing to make an exception, no matter how temporary. Somehow, Tony seemed to recognize his time as a toddler was coming to an end too, and the more Peter watched, the more adult Tony shone through his actions and expressions. What surprised him was as this happened he moved closer instead of further away, eventually sitting on Peter's lap and resting against his chest. Even more surprising was that Tony didn't spit out the pacifier and would occasionally move a lego piece even though he seemed more focused on the movie. He seemed content. So, Peter snuck an arm around Tony causing the toddler to look up for a moment. Then the kid smiled, genuine, if not a little bit tired. For all the resting they'd been doing Peter was surprised he hadn't fully caught up yet. Then again, Tony had years of horrible sleeping habits. 

But if the spell was supposed to return things to their original state…

He needed to stop thinking soon or he’d get an unnecessary headache.

The movie ended too quickly for his liking and the goldfish they’d been eating had disappeared entirely, but despite the excitement of Luke, Han, Leia, and Chewy escaping the trash compactor, he couldn’t help finding himself in his head for most of it. He wanted to remember this, even if Mr. Stark didn’t. Because it was one thing to guess how his mentor was feeling or what he thought about him, (Peter always assumed the worst on that front, despite knowing that the man did care to some extent.) but it was another to be told and have it reaffirmed that he did care, that he wasn’t just some kind of obligation. Peter cared so much about everyone, it hurt that there wasn’t more than two or three he could say it would genuinely matter to if something happened to him, good or bad, especially since he’d happily bear everyone else’s pain if it made their load any lighter. And sure, he knew Tony didn’t want him dead, that he would feel guilty if he got injured on patrol, but there was so much more to love than guilt.

This version in his arms proved that. And maybe, just maybe, the adult side of Mr. Stark was more present than he thought he was at first. Maybe this was Tony’s way to show Peter that he did care about him in a way that he hadn’t been capable of doing before this. It’s a lot easier for a child to show vulnerability than an adult after all; what could be a better excuse to show affection than being a kid? 

Whatever the scenario turned out to be, and even if this was never spoken of again, he would hope that Tony would remember that he loved him.

* * *

 

May, as it turned out, hadn’t gone to work. She just slept in really late. It was a little bit concerning because her internal clock was a steady, well-paced machine, but he was kind of relieved that she was there. 

It didn't stop his shock when she did pop out though. 

"Good morning Peter," She said from behind him, eating a pop tart from a box that had Thor on it. After an Avenger's interview where Thor revealed he liked the Midgardian snack, they'd happily taken the god as a brand mascot. Even he had to admit, the squeak he let out at May sneaking up on him was unmanly, but it amused little Tony, so he didn't care as much as he usually did. Upon making his presence known, she bent down and gently pushed back Tony's hair. It didn't escape Peter's notice that while he did push himself closer to Peter, he didn't avoid the contact altogether.  Her voice was more playful than it had been as she said "Good to see you too little guy. I see you got him to pull out the big guns."

"Who doesn't like  _ A New Hope _ ?" Peter asked, gesturing to the title screen that had taken to playing it's music over and over. Tony pulled his arm back to him as soon as it came back to his range. 

May grinned at him, a smile Peter had picked up and taken over the years of living with her for whenever he made a sassy comeback. "After the forty-fifth Star Wars marathon we've conducted, I can say my name is closer to being on that list." 

Peter's eyes narrowed "You must be for the Empire then,"

"After all these years you've finally caught onto me, young padawan."

Peter hummed and Tony looked on, slightly confused. "For this betrayal to the rebel cause, I request a car ride."

May nodded back just as seriously. "If that's all it takes to win back your trust after all these years of lies and subterfuge, you are a bigger fool than I thought. Where to?"

"Back to Stark Tower, please. Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes should be getting back soon." 

May nodded. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed and we can get going." 

Peter gave her an appreciative look, relief written all over his face. "I don't know where I'd be without you."

"Probably the same place I'd be without you. Now go get ready, we have a long drive ahead of us with the traffic at this time of day."

Peter gave a sharp, enthusiastic nod and popped to his feet. As he ran down the hallway, she wondered if he knew how much she meant that.

The drive to the tower only took a half an hour, which was a bit surprising to all parties involved. Usually, New York traffic was a specific brand of suicidal civilians and increasingly reckless and apathetic drivers. Sure, swinging there would have only taken about ten minutes or so, but he didn't even want to think about what the Bugle headlines would be like. "Spider-Man: Menace has a child?" or worse "Spider-Menace kidnaps local children and trains them to be his sidekicks". Granted, both were a bit of a stretch, but the Bugle was out to get him pretty hardcore, so complete slander wasn't out of the picture. Still, he loved watching May's face as she realized 'Anthony' knew and was singing along to the classic rock she was playing softly on the radio.  

Although, given the nature of Welcome to the Jungle she wondered what Rhodey was teaching his nephew. Peter just grinned and threw in that it was probably Tony's idea.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" May asked as Peter got out of the car. 

Peter didn't get the chance to answer. "He 'tay here," Tony replied to her, with such confidence that May laughed. 

Peter turned to her with amusement shining in his eyes, allowing Tony to latch on to his leg as he absentmindedly threw the diaper bag over his shoulder. "It's all good, I'll figure it out."

"Alright then." May takes one more glance to observe the scene. She smiles and it almost concerns him. "I'll see you soon, Spider-Dad."

Peter splutters indignantly. "I'm not old enough to have a child. I haven't even finished high school yet."

"Oh you better not have a kid," May responded, and despite the serious nature of the statement she was enjoying this. "We haven't even had the talk yet," 

Peter's cheeks burned brightly. "Goodbye, May!" He said, slamming the door closed with his free leg and making to beat a hasty retreat. Thanks to his enhanced hearing he could hear her snort as she pulled away, and he groaned. 

Tony up at him, amused, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was from the motion of his walking or the conversation with May. He assumed both, for safe measure. "You're no' a dad," 

Peter sighed, and he couldn't imagine his blush leaving any time soon. "I am not and I think we can all agree the world is a much better place for it."

"Nope, you my kid," Tony says, and Peter doesn't think he mishears the pride in Tony's voice. His whole body warms, although this time it's not out of embarrassment. "You be a good dad though,"

"You think so?" Peter says, humoring him.

"Yeah!" Tony exclaims, and then immediately adds "No' soon though."

"Believe me I have no plans of having kids in the next five years as a bare minimum."

Tony nodded sternly. "Good. Don't grow up fas'." Peter wants to interject, but Tony continues before he has the chance. "Haven' had you long enough yet."

Peter looked down for a moment, noticing how the kid's eyes flitted straight ahead instead of up at him, and his heart clenched. He picked him up, despite how tightly he fought to stay where he was. "Mr. Stark look at me," He asked, voice ridiculously soft. Tony flinched inward instead, so Peter gently raised his head to make him look at him.  The watery eyes were making his heart lurch. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter what happens in the future, if you need me I'll be here. Well, you've never actually needed me." He trails off for a moment but hops back in before Tony can get in his comment of indignation if his sudden shift to anger was anything to go by. "But if you want me, you know exactly where to find me. And I mean that."

Tony nodded and, after a moment, sunk back into Peter's shoulder, allowing Peter to wrap his other arm around him and his head to rest on his.

They had just walked into the elevator at the back high clearance entrance when he heard Tony sniffling.  "I don' de'erve you." 

Peter glanced toward the ground, feeling heavy. "No, you don't. You deserve someone way better." Tony choked on a sob but shook his head anyway. He tried to say something, but Peter couldn't make it out.  "In life its not always about deserving though, and yeah it can suck, but it can also be a good thing." The elevator ding sounded and Peter walked out onto Tony's floor. He had never known why he had access to it, but it was useful now. 

He didn't want his last couple hours with the toddler to be sad, but he couldn't see a way to steer out of this conversation. So, he steeled himself instead and ran in headlong. "When Ben died," Peter said, voice cracking. He sat down, careful to not jostle Tony too much. "I blamed myself." He breathes then, and its cut off by an ironic laugh. "I still do, actually. He's the reason I decided to become Spider-Man. Do you remember when you came to my apartment for the first time and asked why I do this?" He doesn't look for a response, he doesn't think he can handle one. "And I- I said that if you had the powers to do what I can do, and you don't use them, the bad things that happen are your fault?" He breathed and noticed how Tony seemed attentive, sliding back to look at him better. He tried to remember why he was saying this. "I let him die when I had the power to stop it." He stops then if only for a moment, to wipe at his eyes. Tony's still crying too, but he reaches up to try to wipe Peter's tears away despite it. It's enough to break Peter out of it, and he lets out a shaky laugh.  

"Anyway," Peter says, clearing his throat. "Uh, long story short, I didn't think that I should be around my aunt anymore, or anyone for that matter, because of what I didn't do. I didn't feel like I deserved anything good at all. But I realized," Peter looks down at Tony and tries to smile. It's crooked and damaged, and a bit watery, but it's still good. "By pulling myself back from her, I wouldn't be helping. Because she still wanted me, and after everything she'd been through, I couldn't watch her lose me too. So yeah, I don't deserve anything after doing that, but I still have her, and Ned, and you if you still want me after this." 

It only takes a moment for Tony to bring himself back into Peter, holding onto him tightly and not letting go. Peter doesn't cry, but the gesture makes him feel close to it. 

He tucks himself around Tony, and for a moment, their world makes a little bit more sense.

* * *

 

Time runs out quickly, and soon there are only five minutes left before Peter has to say goodbye to this small, sweet little kid he'd been babysitting. 

"Ready to go back to normal kiddo?" Peter asks with a smile. Despite any reservations he had, he was looking forward to getting the adult Tony Stark back. He was holding onto this kid for what would be the last time though, and that reality wasn't lost on him. He moved the toddler back into one of Tony's larger t-shirts and tucked him into his bed. After all, he didn't want him to asphyxiate, despite how much he loved the Spider-Man outfit.

And that thing was pretty amazing. 

"No-mal?" Tony asked, confused, and Peter's look matched it. Shouldn't only adult Tony be present right now? Then again, he still didn't know how this thing worked perfectly, after all, it wasn't a science. Heck, he didn't even know if any of the past two days was actually one hundred percent adult Tony. 

"Yeah kiddo, you get to be an adult again."

"Hurt?" Tony asked. Which, in all honesty, was a good question. 

"I don't know, actually." Peter frowned. Tony had enough pain in his life without this adding to it. "I hope not."

For some reason, the toddler seemed to accept this. 

The clock counted down, unrepentant. 2 minutes left. If he had any last words now was the time to say them. 

"Anyway, uh," Then again, he had never been the best under pressure. "I know you're probably going to be mad at me after everything but I don't regret it? Like, I'm glad I met this version of you.  And I had fun, and I hope you did as well at some point during this." 

Tony smiled, if a little shyly, and Peter grinned. "Come here you," He said bringing the toddler in for a hug. The clock counted down. 45 seconds left. Tony kissed his cheek sloppily, and Peter laughed and returned the favor. 

"I guess that's it then?" Peter asked, sparing the kid one last fond glance. "I'll be right outside if you need me. Or you know, if you don't, I'll be there anyway."

The mood shift was instantaneous.

"You said you wouldn't go,” Tony said frantically, grabbing Peter. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Peter could feel his eyes widening. He couldn't stay for this. It would be worse if he stayed for this.

So why was leaving so hard? 

“I'm not going to leave. I'll be right outside. I just can’t be in the room with you for while you change back to normal.” Peter said softly. He didn’t want to lie. He just wasn’t sure if that was the right answer. “I’m sorry,”

Tony started wailing, and there wasn’t anything Peter could do about it. “Stay!” He felt helpless. “Please,” Tony pleaded. He had to leave. “I’ll be good!” He had to go. 

"I'm sorry," Peter says, and it sounds broken. 

He shuts the door as the clock hits zero, and anything Tony could have said ceased.

Peter slid down the wall, suddenly feeling very tired.

* * *

 

Tony blinked blearily, pushing himself into a sitting position. “What happened?” He asked, voice rough like he hadn’t used it in days. He wasn’t sure he had, if he thought about it, he couldn’t remember much of anything. It was like he had been drunk, but he didn’t remember drinking or going to drink, and he didn’t feel hungover as he would have if that was the case. Friday answered back, “You were hit with a spell that reverted you back to childhood.”

He… didn’t remember that. “It wasn’t Strange, was it? That guy hasn’t liked me since I met him.” He shakily came to his feet, taking note of the boxers and the jeans left out for him. He threw them on gracelessly, not worrying too hard about being naked from the waist down for the moment.

“The perpetrator was from off planet boss, not Dr. Strange. The spell was cast to revert anything affected to its original state. However, the enemy left after seeing Spider-man also on the site. My readings picked up severe heart rate influxes after he hit you.”

He didn’t hear anything after she mentioned Spider-man. “Peter was there? Is he okay?” 

“I assure you,” Friday said, voice warmer than usual. Tony raised an eyebrow at that. “Peter was unaffected in the attack. He took care of you while everything was happening.” Tony stopped cold in his tracks. He brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“And how old was I exactly?” He asked ducking his head down with the defiance he used when he knew that he wouldn’t like the answer. But somehow, staring down villains seemed easier than this. 

“My scans showed physically one and a half, but with mental fluctuations that varied.” He winced. That couldn’t have possibly lead to anything good. He was flooded with potential mental images, so he closed his eyes as tightly as he could get them as if that would wash them away. It didn’t. 

“Did you record any of it?” He could feel his neck heating up, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would be covered in a red tint. He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d blushed. Before he could lose his nerve and tell Friday not to pull anything up, a projection displayed on the wall. Reflexively, his arms crossed over his chest.

The video panned into Peter ambling in through an open window with the iron man armor awkwardly slumped over his shoulders, almost seeming to be standing on the tops of Peter’s feet. He heard Friday’s voice say “I can’t regain access to the suit, but you have the capability to open it. Would you like me to walk you through the instructions?” The next minutes passed in a blur, Peter flinging his mask off and deconstructing the iron man suit with the amount of awe and trepidation and nerves of someone who had never seen the suit before. Despite himself, Tony found himself trying not to smile at the kid. There was a pause, and a change of camera angle to zoom in more closely on the pair.

As he watched Peter lift what he could only assume was his child version into his arms, he felt like he could throw up. Of all the people who could have been stuck in this scenario with him, it had to be Peter? The kid who looked at him like he was amazing and worth something? Who thought more of him than just Iron Man or stupid things he’d done while drunk? 

The one person who was unfailingly sure that Tony Stark was capable of good?

The kid he knew would one day take over and dominate whatever field he wanted to, who could win over the most cold-hearted people, who he wanted to keep rolled in bubble wrap and protect until there wasn’t anything out left to come after him, that’s the person who was forced to look after him? Tony felt like the universe was playing some kind of sick joke. Of course, the one relationship where he tried to be the responsible adult would be the one that’d get exposed to him as a baby.

Tony forced his eyes open as he listened to them talk about what was happening and how they planned to handle the situation. Friday and Peter made it sound like he could see what was happening, or take over his body whenever he wanted to, and it was frustrating that he couldn’t remember any of this. It was strange though because as Peter moved his hand through smaller Tony’s hair in the video, he could almost feel it. And, slowly, the pieces began to drop into place.

“Fri, stop the playback. Save whatever recordings you have of my time as” He gestures to the screen, flustered “that.” 

“Copy that boss,” She said, projection abruptly turning off. “Would now be a good time to mention that Mr. Parker is still here?”

“He’s what?” Tony asked, feeling old and tired of all of this nonsense for a moment. He just needed to think, but the more he tried to the more lost he felt. 

“You just changed back to normal eleven minutes ago boss, he wanted to make sure you’d be okay after the transformation back.” 

He vaguely sees a still frame of the bots throwing something. It’s blurry like the camera was out of focus. “Can’t you tell him I’m fine and that he should be getting home? It’s late.”

“It’s 3:49 in the afternoon, I don’t think that excuse will work.” He turns to look out the window, and sure enough, it's sunny. He can feel himself digging into Peter’s chest, trying to hide from something. He can almost hear a voice accompanying it, but it fades every time he tries to focus on it. 

“Doesn’t he have homework?” He tries. The world feels soft for a second and strangely purple. He can’t place it, but it's so close. 

“It’s summer vacation, good luck with that one.” 

Tony huffs, “Well then genius, why don’t you tell me your brilliant plan?”

“I’d recommend going to see him, boss. Soon would be preferable.”

It feels kind of like going insane, Tony would imagine, bordering on a panic attack but not enough to push him over the edge. So, he holds onto that bit of sanity as tightly as he can grasp it. “Friday,” He commands, and it’s hoarse like he’s losing willpower. “Mute.”

The silence is relieving. He lies back for a moment, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes. Rational, that was all he had to be about this. His therapist had told him to look at the full picture. Maybe he was missing some of this one. 

Peter was admittedly not his first choice for who he’d want taking care of his mini self, but he was hard-pressed to think of many who would do a better job. He was probably caring and patient and friendly, several things that he knew just from the long lists of opposites of Howard Stark would be useful in caring for a child. He felt himself resign just a little.

After about a half hour of deliberation and thinking things through, Tony found himself standing at the door and bracing himself for whatever would happen next. If Peter was to leave, he’d want a glimpse of Tony first. The kid could be more stubborn than Steve Rogers himself if it was necessary. Besides, he knew if he did just ask the kid to leave that he would. Peter was good like that, which made him some traitorous part of him not want to ask him to.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Peter to be sitting cross-legged right outside the door. He hopped up as soon as he heard it open. “Hey Mr. Stark,” He greeted, fidgeting and fake smiling that telltale smile he did when he did something he wasn't sure of the reaction to. 

   Which meant Tony had to get a grip, fast. “Hey kid, why are you here?” He kept his words slow and casual, trying to assert dominance in the conversation to get it over with quicker. “I’m pretty sure there's no paint for you to watch dry on this wall.” He flicked his thumb towards it casually and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

   Peter looked away for a moment, before surprising Tony by looking up directly at him. “I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I’m still not used to this,” He makes an awkward gesture that looks kinda like a long lost cousin of jazz-hands “Magic stuff.” 

   Peter felt his mouth twitch up at Tony’s mildly alarmed response. “Kid, the less involved with ‘magic’ you are the better.” Those were honest to God air quotations. Well.

   “Look, Mr. Stark, I love science as much as the next guy if the next guy is like Bruce Banner or an equivalent, but what explanation for age regression is there other than magic?”

   “Merging of timelines? Odd mineral combination? By all logic, the vibranium in Cap’s shield shouldn’t bounce the way it does due to the principal of canceling out vibrations, but it does.” Tony looks like he wants to continue, but Peter knows he’s as confused as he is. "Black Holes aren't explained by magic, they're just anomalies. 'Magic'" The air quotations return. "Doesn't make any damn sense. There isn't anything that's perfectly unexplainable."

Peter grinned. "Clearly you haven't seen the American education system lately."

"Oh, believe me, I make it a point to stay as far away from that as I can." 

"Probably a smarter move."

Howard. Tony's vision blackened for a second. Peter was saying something then, but he almost didn't want to know. His mind must have been really scattered the past few days: He hadn't had nightmares about him in years.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, worried. He had his arms out slightly as if he was waiting to catch something.

"Me?" Tony asks straightening himself out. He wasn't about to make himself vulnerable again so soon. He didn't want Peter to worry. Too bad that ship already sailed years earlier. "Never better. How about yourself kid?"

"I'm fine, but this isn't really the time to be asking about me."

Tony scoffed. "Nonsense. You just spent two days of your life taking care of a child. I think I can ask about you if I want." He moved, but Peter kept up with him easily.

"Considering it was you and not just some random kid of the streets, it went pretty well. I'm not going to qualify for the caretaker of the year though if that's what you're asking." 

Tony quirked an eyebrow.  "A random kid off the streets would probably be welcome in comparison."

"Nonsense," Peter said firmly, making it clear there wasn't any room for doubt. Bold of him, Tony thought, because he was an expert in finding wiggle room wherever it existed when it came to self-deprecation. "You were perfect. Never met a better-behaved toddler."

Tony didn't really know how to respond to that. Fortunately, his mouth worked on autopilot. "Probably because I wasn't an actual toddler. And besides, I'm sure you did fine. I'm still alive aren't I?"

Peter carried on, not acknowledging the praise; and wasn't that just like him? "I don't think you could have been any more cuddly. It was cute."

"You sure you aren't describing yourself right now, Pete?"

Peter feigned indignance, and as much as he hated what happened, it was nice to see Peter perfectly comfortable around him.

He just wished he knew what had happened to make it that way. 

“First of all,” Peter started, “I don’t do ‘cute’. People fear me,” Here, Tony laughed outright and Peter shot him an annoyed look. “I’m a scary, scary man Mr. Stark.”

“That right there,” Tony wheezed, “Maybe the best joke you’ve ever told.”

Peter glared, but there was a smile he was fighting pretty hard with, and it didn’t escape Tony’s notice. “Heathen,”

His vision blacked out for longer this time, and he woke up on the couch in his living room. “Mr. Stark, really, are you okay?” Peter asked, and at least things were slowly piecing back together even if he had to blackout for it to happen. Still, the look on Peter’s face was more important than any way he may have actually been feeling.

“As I said before, just peachy,” Peter’s lips curled down, so Tony continued. “Although, I think you might owe me some cookies.”

Peter’s eyes widened almost comically then, and if the situation was normal Tony would laugh. “You remember that? Wait, how much do you remember?”

Tony groaned as he tried to sit up, and was surprised that he wasn’t annoyed at Peter when he moved to help. That was new. “A little bit more than a drunk, a little bit less than an elephant.”

“So, in other words?” Peter prompted at the weird but vague answer.

“Not much," Tony admitted. He leaned his legs against the backrest of the couch and watched as Peter gingerly lowered himself to sit.

Somehow  in this time-frame, Peter managed to connect the dots, which was impressive given the amount of information. "So the blackouts are you getting your memories back?"

"We have a winner," 

Peter snorted, "Well that's a first," He didn't elaborate, and Tony decided not to ask. The comment tied a knot in his stomach though. Peter's eyes were still a little red, he noted, and he couldn't think of why even though he knew he wouldn't be able to. 

He blacked out again and woke up looking conflicted between being concerned and incredibly troubled.

"Mr. Stark, this is getting weird. Not that it ever wasn't weird, but you know. Should I call the med bay?" Tony almost didn't hear him. 

Peter always seemed so happy and easy going. He'd known about Ben of course, but he thought Peter was healing and moving past it. He never imagined that Peter would think he needed to carry the weight of his death by himself, or moreover that he blamed himself for it. The more he thought about it though, the more it made sense. Peter didn't fight because he was afraid of being blamed for his inaction, he fought because he blamed himself for his inaction. Survivors Guilt.

Tony hadn't experienced that until his twenties when his mother died, but Peter was four when he lost his parents. How much of his childhood had he actually gotten to live?

"I didn't know," Tony said softly, hating that. He didn't like to be out of the loop or in the dark, especially when he thought he knew. He thought he was figuring Peter out, but part of that knowledge was the realization that for someone who seemed so open, he kept a lot to himself. 

So when had he forgotten that? How much more had the kid told him these past few days then he had in the past several months that he'd known him?

"Didn't know about what?" Peter asked, confused. Like nothing was wrong. How often did he act like nothing was wrong when everything was?

"Ben." Peter tensed. "How you were reacting. That he was the reason you decided to put on spandex and make every damn self-sacrificing idiotic decision you could possibly make. I should have known, because I had every single hint to figure it out, and yet I didn't say anything.  I should have been there for you, helping you. Instead, I dragged you out to Berlin to fight in a war you knew nothing about-"

"Stop," Peter said firmly. "Stop blaming yourself." Tony didn't want to stop talking, because damn was that statement hypocritical, but he did anyway because he owed the kid that much. "I choose what actions I take, so it's my responsibility to make the right ones. Being Spider-Man is what I chose to do, so whatever happens to me because of that isn't your fault."

"I gave you that suit," Tony said, and Peter laughed slightly, frustrated.

"Yeah, and I proved that I'd still be fighting whatever idiots decided to pop up on my radar with or without it." He sighed, and after a moment looked back up at Tony with watery eyes and a shaky smile. "I'm not the only thing that matters Mr. Stark. There are billions of people who deserve a chance to have good lives.  I'm not going to let anything bad happen to them when I can stop it from happening."

Tony huffed. "Doesn't it ever occur to you that people care about what happens to you too? I'm not going to stand here and let you get hurt."

"Yeah, well doesn't it ever occur to you that you matter to me too? You said if I died that you'd blame yourself. If you got hurt because of me I'd blame myself too. I'm not going to let someone I love die because of me again!" Peter said, and this time the tears stream down his face. He feels himself reaching out for the kid before he really realizes what he's doing, and soon he has a chest full of crying teenager. What surprises him more is that it doesn't bother him even though he usually hates dealing with emotions. "I love you too kid," He says, and it's soft and genuine in a way he can't remember being in a long time. "And I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. It's not your fault."

He remembers Peter doing this for him several times over the past few days, and he wonders how Peter figured the responsible adult thing out while being a traumatized kid at the same time. He did know though that he wasn't going to let him carry the burden by himself as long as he could help it, no matter what that meant on his end. 

Even if that meant he had to be vulnerable from time to time. Because, really, to keep his kid safe and happy it was a small price to pay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And its finished my boyo's. I think this is actually the first fanfic I've ever completed writing? Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this journey, and if you made it this far down the line I'd love to hear what you think. Maybe at some point I'll come back in and make some bonus chapters or epilogue chapters or something, who knows. Also, I used grammarly with the last couple chapters and essays I've been writing for school, so if you are like me and get really embarrassed about people you know reading your stuff thats a good alternative. I make a lot of stupid mistakes lol. Thank you as well for all the positive feedback! I didn't think this would be so well received, but it's been super heartwarming to see.

**Author's Note:**

> It's ParkrStark's birthday today! I've been super obsessed with her writing lately, so this is a really small gesture of thanks for all the really cool things she's done. The prompt was from a piece of fanart she reposted last year on her insta that I just sort of ran with, but really I'm just a sucker for these kinds of stories.
> 
> If you're reading this I hope you have a really good birthday!


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